


There's a First for Everything

by chocobee



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anniversary, Anxiety, Anxious Prompto Argentum, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Promnis Big Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobee/pseuds/chocobee
Summary: Ignis, Prompto, and some of the initial moments of their relationship.Written for the 2019 Promnis Big Bang!





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally post this! I went through a lot with this fic but in the end it really paid off! I'm still kind of amazed I was able to pass 21k words, I really thought it would be a struggle just to get to the 15k minimum. Certain parts definitely got away from me, but I guess that's a good thing!
> 
> Just a few quick thanks before we get rolling: first to all the mods who put everything together; they were all super helpful and encouraging! Also a huge thanks to [Blind Royal Guardian](https://twitter.com/BlindRoyalGuard) who drew [this amazing art](https://twitter.com/BlindRoyalGuard/status/1198307083592056838) for the fic!! Also to my lovely editor [Kika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988) who seriously helped me out with this! I couldn't have done it without all of you <3
> 
> Okay, enough being sappy! Hope you enjoy!

For what must be the hundredth time this hour alone, Prompto’s eyes dart away from his textbook and to the clock above the classroom door. There’s only about ten minutes until the final bell, and the fact has Prompto’s already rapid leg-bouncing speeding up even more.

It’s not an uncommon thing for Prompto — or any other student, for that matter — to be disregarding a lecture in favor of practically gluing their eyes to the clock on a Friday afternoon. Normally, Prompto would be counting down the minutes to freedom in excitement, eager to hit up the arcade with Noct as per their usual end of the week plans. Except today their plans have changed, so Prompto’s been watching the clock all day in antsy dread.

He’d be going to Noct’s apartment for the first time after school — which, okay, totally awesome — but that also meant he’d be meeting Noct’s advisor, Ignis, for the first time, too. And that was kind of a big deal, despite Noct’s insistence that it’s “just Specs, dude.”

Except he’s not “just Specs” to Prompto. He’s Ignis Scientia, Royal Advisor, and arguably a very important person. Prompto’s stomach’s been twisting itself up in knots all day, worried that Ignis won’t like him, or that he’ll accidentally say something wrong or offensive or stupid and then Ignis would ban him from even looking at Noct ever again.

Which, okay, he _knows_ he’s probably making a big deal about things and being highly irrational, _knows_ Noct is right and things are going to be fine, but that’s the funny thing about anxiety, isn’t it? It won’t quit no matter how many times Prompto tries to reassure himself, making his brain feel like static and his chest feel tight, like he can’t really breathe the right way.

Absently, Prompto reaches down to pick at his wristband, a nervous tic, but stops abruptly and instead taps his fingers on the worn wood of his desk, because he _really_ doesn’t want to think about his wristband and what lies underneath right now.

Imagining Ignis — and Noct, as well — finding out about _that_ is an entirely different can of worms, one that Prompto most definitely wants to keep closed as tightly as he can.

The last ten minutes of class normally stretch into what seems like unending hours, but today the bell rings before he knows it, and Prompto’s stomach practically drops through him and onto the floor. The rest of his classmates exit the classroom in a flurry, excitedly discussing weekend plans, but Prompto feels glued to his seat. He takes his time putting his books and the like back into his backpack, long enough that his teacher gives him an odd look. He’s usually the first one out of the room on any given day so he could at least see Noct for a few minutes between classes or before going home for the day. He forces himself to stand, ignoring the way his legs feel a little wobbly, and gives his teacher a weak smile, wishing her a good weekend before stepping out into the hall.

The halls are packed, brimming with loud laughter and shouting, and it worsens his mood further. He feels claustrophobic as he navigates through the mass of students, and even takes the long way to his locker, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his thighs where his hands hang beside him. He thinks about faking sick to get out of this — thinks he might _actually_ be sick if his anxiety keeps this up — but he doesn’t want to disappoint Noct. Besides, like Noct had said, he’d have to meet Ignis eventually. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t already, given how much of a staple Ignis is in Noct’s life.

When he finally pushes past some students to get to his locker, Noct’s already waiting there for him. He’s leaning up against the row of lockers besides Prompto’s, scrolling idly though his phone. “Hey, dude,” Prompto says, aiming for casual though he’s sure he’s missed the mark.

“What took you so long?” Noct asks, but then he looks up from his phone, and pauses.

“Uh, had to talk to the teacher, sorry,” Prompto lies, twisting the combination lock on his locker. His hands are shaking though, so he misses a number and has to start over.

He can feel Noct’s eyes boring into the side of his head. “Are you okay?” Noct asks after a moment, sounding hesitant, but still concerned.

“I’m fine, dude,” Prompto says, maybe a hint too quickly, his voice still tight and shaky. He’s sure he looks pale and frazzled and out of sorts, and that certainly doesn’t help his case.

Noct squints at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Prompto tells him, wrenching his locker open and rifling through it. He can see Noct out of the corner of his eye, frowning, looking unsure about whether he wants to press Prompto or leave it be despite something clearly being up. But what’s Prompto supposed to tell him? _Oh, haha, sorry, I’m just a big baby and get major anxiety over anything and everything, but it’s fine-_

“You still nervous about meeting Specs?”

Prompto freezes. “I, uh-” he stutters, then heaves a sigh and admits, “Yeah, a little.” He gives Noct a sheepish look around the locker door.

Noct rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond look on his face, the corners of his lips tugging up in the slightest bit—and that eases Prompto some, because Noct never gets annoyed with Prompto’s anxious theatrics. “Prom, c’mon. I told you already, it’s gonna be fine.”

“I know, I know,” Prompto sighs. He shuts his locker and turns to look at Noct. “I just… what if he doesn’t like me, or I say something wrong and he has me executed or something?” And Prompto knows he’s bordering ridiculous now, but his nervous energy is hitting its peak and if he doesn’t get it out now, he’s sure to have some kind of panic attack.

“Prompto,” Noct says, exasperated. He grips each of Prompto’s shoulders and gives him a slight shake. “You’re _fine_. Just be yourself, dude.” Prompto has to fight the urge to ask if Noct is even aware of who exactly he’s talking to, because Prompto _being himself_ is most likely contending for the number one spot on the list of Top Ten Most Annoying Things in Eos. But then Noct’s continuing, “Specs is really excited to meet you.”

“But what if- wait, really?” Prompto asks, blinking at Noct with wide eyes.

“Yes, you dork,” Noct laughs. “Now let’s go already!”

Prompto lets himself be tugged down the hall, weaving through clusters of students towards the main entrance. His stomach flutters, not just with anxiety this time, but with something else he can’t quite place. Ignis is excited to meet him? Prompto doesn’t think anyone’s ever been excited to meet him before. He hopes he doesn’t let Ignis down.

The air outside is warm and inviting, much better than the stuffy halls of the school. They spot Ignis waiting where he usually is, standing prim and proper beside a sleek black car parked a little ways down the walkway. This is where the two of them usually part ways, where Noct goes one way and Prompto goes the other, because he’s never worked up the courage to walk Noct to the car and introduce himself to Ignis.

He follows Noct’s lead, and as they descend the front steps of the school and start towards the car, Prompto feels panic trying to claw its way up his throat. He valiantly stomps it back down and whispers, “What do I do? I mean, do I bow, or what?” He doesn’t want to be accidentally rude right off the bat. Ignis technically isn’t royalty, but he’s close enough, in Prompto’s eyes. That should warrant a bow, right?

Noct reaches over to give Prompto’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Relax,” he says calmly. “Just shake his hand, you don’t have to be all super formal with him.”

Prompto can handle a handshake. Ignis looks up from his phone as they get closer, smiling lightly and pocketing the device. Prompto discreetly tries to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants as Noct says, “Hey, Specs.” He smiles, gestures to Prompto, and says, “This is Prompto.” Then he gestures to Ignis. “And Prompto, this is Ignis.”

Ignis holds out his hand and says, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Prompto.” Prompto’s a little caught off guard by the Tenebraen accent, but hastily grabs Ignis’ hand and completes the handshake. “Noct has told me much about you.”

Prompto’s already blushing, but now Noct is, too, grumbling something under his breath and crossing his arms, embarrassed. Prompto’s stomach does a little flip at the fact that Noct likes him enough to talk about him to other people. 

“All good things, I hope!” he tries to joke, cringing at the way his voice comes out strained and high-pitched with nerves. Eye contact with anyone is a regular struggle for him, but he doesn’t want to be rude, so he forces himself to meet brilliant emerald eyes and hold them.

“Mostly,” Ignis teases. As soon as he releases Prompto’s hand, Prompto shoves them both in his pockets, hoping to hide the way they still haven’t completely stopped shaking.

“Specs, c’mon,” Noct whines, though the effect of his glare is diminished by his red cheeks. Ignis looks amused and opens the back door for them.

Prompto’s feeling a little better as Noct herds him into the backseat, because that hadn’t been as awful as he’d thought it’d be. Ignis is nice, and seems to like him so far, though his anxiety makes him very aware of the fact that he has all night to make a fool of himself or mess things up, not letting him find much relief. The drive is filled with normal small talk, and Prompto does his best not to nervously ramble for most of it.

They arrive at Noct’s apartment in no time at all since Ignis knows which roads to take to avoid most of the traffic. The guards in the lobby of the building gives him a once over as he passes, walking next to Noct as they trail behind Ignis. They don’t say anything or stop him, though, just nod at him when he smiles politely.

* * *

Ignis leads them through the lobby and into an elevator that takes them up to the top floor and lets them out into a rather plain hallway. He unlocks Noct’s door for them, since he knows Noct will be too lazy to get his keys out. As he holds the door open for the two of them, Ignis doesn’t miss Prompto’s awed little, “Woah,” as he steps inside. He’s seen Prompto’s background check, and knows he’s not used to expensive living such as this. Noct wastes no time in kicking off his shoes and going to collapse on the couch, and Prompto hurries to follow, although he’s much more restrained and polite. Ignis can tell how out of place he feels, glancing around as he sits stiffly beside Noct on the couch.

“I’m going to prep for dinner,” Ignis announces. “How does curry sound to you, Prompto?” Noct had mentioned Prompto’s love for spicy foods off-handedly a few times. Making something he already knows the blond will enjoy seems like a safe route, and Ignis hopes it will make him feel a bit more welcome.

Prompto blinks at him in surprise — whether it’s surprise at Ignis’ choice or surprise at being asked his opinion, Ignis doesn’t know — and says, “That sounds amazing!” He’s smiling, looking less nervous then he had before, and Ignis is smiling back before he realizes it.

“Excellent,” he says, and turns towards the kitchen.

“Oh, um,” Prompto says, and Ignis pauses to look back at him. He looks nervous again, wringing his hands and glancing to Noct before asking, “Do you need any help with anything?”

“No, thank you,” Ignis says easily. “I appreciate the offer, but why don’t the two of you just relax?”

“Oh, okay,” Prompto says, watching as Noct peels himself off the couch to set up a game for them. “Thank you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thanks, Specs,” Noct echoes.

“Of course,” Ignis says, turning back to the kitchen now that Prompto’s appeased. He sets about the familiar routine with practiced ease, listening to Noct and Prompto’s chatter in the background. Jokes pass easily and familiarly between them, and Ignis is glad that Noct seems to be enjoying himself.

Ignis’ thoughts drift to the blond in question as he runs through the dinner preparations. He’d had his suspicions at first, of course. Prompto is hardly Noct’s first common friend, and past experiences have led Noct to be a bit guarded nowadays when it comes to those he associates with. Ignis can’t help but feel protective; seeing Noct — his prince, his _brother_ — heartbroken one too many times over ‘friends’ who didn’t want him for _him_ has made Ignis wary of anyone who tries to insert themselves into Noct’s life.

Prompto’s background check coming back clean was a good first sign. He seems genuine; Noct’s been friends with him for a few months now, and has said multiple times that Prompto’s not like the others. He sees _Noct_, not _Prince Noctis_, and hasn’t shown any signs of trying to take advantage of the prince. His nervousness is really the only thing Ignis could count as remotely suspicious, but Noct’s mentioned that it’s a recurring issue for Prompto, that he gets anxious over practically anything, from small, everyday things to more pressing things, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s more likely the boy has anxiety issues, rather than he’s trying to hide something and doing a poor job at it.

Only time will tell if Prompto is as genuine as he seems, of course. Ignis can only hope he is, because with Noct’s duties starting to pile up, losing yet another friend is something he absolutely doesn’t need right now. He’s been much happier lately, and Ignis fears that if Prompto ends up revealing some ulterior motives, Noct will spiral back into the depressive funk he’s been working so hard to dig himself out of. He’d just have to keep an eye on Prompto for now, then.

The rest of cooking goes smoothly. Prompto wanders into the kitchen for water at some point, and once more asks Ignis if there’s anything he can do to help. Ignis is glad Noct’s new friend at least has some manners, though it’s unnecessary. He is their guest, after all.

* * *

Prompto ends up helping Noct set the table, though, and then politely waits until they’re all seated and have a plate before he starts eating. It smells and looks amazing. Curry is one of his favorites, and he can’t help but wonder if Noct had mentioned that or if Ignis had just chosen it coincidentally.

Prompto pretends not to notice the way Ignis is subtly watching as he takes his first bite, but promptly forgets about it as soon as he gets a taste of the curry. It is, simply put, the best thing he’s ever had in his entire life. Nothing else in all of Eos could even _compare_ to how delicious this curry is “Oh, wow,” he says, beaming at Ignis where he sits across the table. “Ignis, this is, like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”

“Thank you,” Ignis says warmly, and starts in on his own meal now that he’s apparently satisfied with Prompto’s reaction.

“Seriously,” Prompto says, taking a few more bites before turning to Noct. “Noct, you get to eat like this all the time? I’m so jealous!”

Noct shrugs and grins. “Yeah, Iggy’s pretty awesome.”

Prompto looks back to Ignis. “Forget Noct, you should become a chef or something,” Prompto says, not entirely joking. “I bet you’d have the best restaurant in all of Insomnia.”

Ignis chuckles. “Perhaps in another life,” he says. “I fear Noct would be hopeless without me.”

“Okay,” Noct says, rolling his eyes, “maybe not that awesome…”

Their dinner conversation tumbles from one topic to the next as Ignis and Prompto get to know one another a bit more. They talk about school, and work, and hobbies. By the end of it, Prompto feels like Ignis knows him more than he knows Ignis, but he hopes that might change over time. They’ve only just met, after all.

It’s really nice, actually. It’s been a long time since Prompto’s eaten dinner with anyone else, and now that he’s experiencing it again, he realizes how much he’s missed it. Something warm settles in his chest - something other than the curry, that is - and he clutches desperately to the feeling, yearning with everything he’s got that he won’t lose it.

Prompto insists on helping with the dishes afterwards, and Ignis eventually aquises and allows him to help Noct load the dishwasher after Ignis has pre-washed everything. Once everything’s all cleaned up, Prompto glances at his phone and frowns. “I should probably get going, I gotta catch the bus home.”

“I can drive you home, if you’d like,” Ignis offers, but Prompto shakes his head with a smile. He’s already done so much, and Prompto’s not about to make him go so far out of his way.

“That’s okay,” he says, “I don’t mind taking the bus. Thanks, though.”

“Very well,” Ignis says. He putters around the kitchen while Prompto is slipping his shoes and jacket back on, chatting with Noct, who’s leaning against the wall in the entryway with his arms crossed. Ignis reappears with a paper bag and holds it out to Prompto. “Here, at least take some leftovers with you.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, and bites his lip. As much as he’d love more of that amazing curry... “You don’t have to give me anything!”

Ignis smiles. “Please, I insist. There’s plenty more for us here, and I know you liked it.”

Prompto glances towards Noct as if to see if it’s really okay, and Noct gestures to the bag. “If you’re sure,” Prompto says, and hesitantly takes the bag from Ignis. He feels like they’ve both done so much for him already—not that he doesn’t appreciate it. “Um, it was really nice meeting you Ignis. Thanks so much for picking me up from school, and for dinner, and for letting me hang out,” he rambles.

“It was no trouble,” Ignis says smoothly. “It was a pleasure having you.”

Prompto matches Ignis’ smile with one of his own, feeling more comfortable than he had all night. Noct grabs Prompto’s arm and says, “I’ll walk you down to the lobby.” Prompto bids Ignis one last goodbye and follows Noct out into the hall.

“See?” Noct says as soon as they’re in the elevator, elbowing Prompto gently and grinning. “Told you it’d be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Prompto says sheepishly, swatting at his friend. The night had definetly gone so much better than he thought it would; sure, he made a lot of dumb jokes and said a few stupid things, but overall, he felt he’d been a good guest. “So, ah, you think he likes me?”

“Of course he does,” Noct says matter-of-factly. “He just might not show it yet. That’s just how he is.” He shrugs. “You gotta get to know him more before he’ll open up. I promise he’s not as stuffy once he feels more comfortable around you.”

“I don’t think he was stuffy,” Prompto argues, though there’s no heat in it. He feels a little giddy at the fact that Noct’s saying these things like Prompto will have the chance to get to know Ignis more, to keep being a part of Noct’s life, as small of a part as that might be. He’ll take whatever he can get.

The guards nod at him once more as they pass through the lobby, and as they reach the grand front doors of the building, he says, “Thanks for having me over and everything. It was a lot of fun.”

Noct rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for everything, y’know. Ignis, too; I think I heard you thank him, like, a million times.”

Prompto scowls and refrains from slapping at him, since there are still guards all around them and he’s worried that might count as assaulting the prince. “Dude, I’m just being polite!”

Noct laughs. “Whatever,” he says. “I’ll see you Monday?”

Prompto can’t help the grin that splits his face. “You bet,” he says, and after a quick fist-bump, he’s gone.

Noct wishes tonight’s guards a good evening on his way back to his apartment. “So,” he says when he enters, door closing softly behind him, “does he get the Iggy Seal of Approval?”

Ignis lets out an amused little huff, lips turning up in a tiny smile. “I believe he does.”


	2. First Realization of Feelings

In hindsight, though Ignis was never anything short of kind towards Prompto, he feels a little guilty for being so wary of the younger teen in the beginning.

He knows his reasons had been entirely valid — he wasn’t about to let just anyone waltz into Noct’s life free of scrutiny. There’d been too many who’d only wanted to be friends with Noct for his power, his money, or his position.

However, after knowing Prompto for nearly a year and slowly witnessing him start to feel comfortable around them, abandoning his overly polite habits and opening up a bit more, Ignis can gladly say that Prompto is a true, loyal friend — and not just to Noctis anymore.

Ignis had taken great strides to make Prompto feel more relaxed and comfortable around him, which hadn’t been the easiest feat and had taken several weeks. Gladio had gone through the same exact thing, both of them trying their hardest to get Prompto to realize that they didn’t secretly hate him and genuinely wanted him to stick around.

Once Prompto considered them friends as much as he did Noct, he had inserted himself quite nicely into their little group. Their trio became a quartet. Prompto was the little pocket of sunshine that they so desperately needed, even if they hadn’t exactly realized it. He came to them like the sun after a long storm, peeking hesitantly through the clouds before shining down at full strength. 

Noct’s brighter, happier, and in turn so are Ignis and Gladio. Prompto is a welcome breath of fresh air from all their ever-growing duties, and they all appreciate everything he does for them.

So it’s not really a surprise that the blond consumes most of Ignis’ thoughts when he’s not thinking about anything work related. Having him around is such a welcome change, and Ignis is simply reflecting on that, is all.

But then his thoughts start turning from what a good friend Prompto is for all of them, to more intimate things, like how Prompto’s hair is nearly as golden as his personality, or how his laugh is one of the best sounds Ignis has ever heard, or how Ignis wants to count all the freckles dusting his pale skin.

It’s not a problem. And then Noct points out that he makes spicy foods more often than not.

It’s a problem.

It’s certainly not the first time Ignis had dealt with what he considers inappropriate feelings. He does his best to shove them back where they came from. His duty is more important, _Noctis_ is more important.

Besides, he can’t very well just confess to Prompto. He can’t compromise Prompto and Noct’s friendship, doesn’t _want_ to compromise his own friendship with Prompto. Feelings will pass, eventually. Ignis can handle it, for now.

So he does what he does best, and puts on a mask so no one could see the truth, and pretends like everything is fine.

* * *

Prompto thinks he’s more than a little screwed.

Passing infatuations are so common for him that he feels like he catches new feelings every month. It stems from being so lonely, he reasons; now if anyone gives him any kind of positive attention, does or says anything even remotely kind to him, it’s all he can think about. Like the girl in his chemistry class who'd offered up her notes when she saw him struggling, or the guy who'd complimented his photos when he'd gone to get prints made, or the cute cashier who told him his outfit was cool. Besides, he can hardly help that there’s just so many attractive people out and about in the world.

It’d happened with Noct, too, in the beginning. _That_ had been an immensely embarrassing situation he’d rather not think about. Gladio, too, though that one was hardly surprising — Prompto’s sure that almost everyone who ever meets Gladio ends up crushing on him. Both crushes had faded after a few weeks, as most of Prompto’s crushes tend to do, and if the one on Noct had lasted a bit longer than usual, then he certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone.

But that’s not really Prompto’s problem. At least, not anymore. The problem is that once his feelings turned to Ignis that things started to get a little serious. He’d gone through his usual flustered crush phase, same as any other time or person. Except, when he’d expected his feelings to start dying down, they’d only gotten stronger.

He finds himself laying awake in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling at the little patch of light peeking through his curtains from the streetlight outside his window, thoughts swirling in his head. About Ignis, always about Ignis.

How he’s one of the most attractive people Prompto’s ever seen. How his eyes are such a pretty shade of green. How he’s so incredibly smart and put together. How he makes little puns at every opportunity he’s given.

It takes him a painfully long time to finally accept that he’s got a crush on Ignis — a serious, proper crush.

It’s quite possibly the worst realization of his life.

He’d finally found a group of people he felt comfortable calling friends — and, sure, maybe he doesn’t entirely fit in with them, and has long since accepted the fact that their duties will likely keep them from him, and eventually he’ll see them all less and less. That’s just how things go when you’re some of the most important people in the country. But he can still call them friends, at least for now, and can semi-confidently say that most of the time, he doesn’t feel like some kind of annoyance or burden.

But having feelings for Ignis puts everything at risk. Ignis is as close to a brother to Noct as he could be, so what if Noct finds out and feels weird about it, and doesn’t want Prompto around anymore? Or if Gladio finds out and gets weirdly protective, like he tends to do, and tells Prompto to get lost? Or if — gods forbid — Ignis himself finds out, and is so uncomfortable that he bans Prompto from hanging out with them?

Prompto’s anxious brain happily supplies him with the worst case scenario: one of them discovers his feelings and he gets cut off. Then he’s back to square one: friendless in an empty house, with no one to talk to and nowhere to go. He’d been used to being alone, but now that he knows what it's like to have something better, it’d be hard adjusting back to the loneliness.

It’s a simple solution. He just… can’t let anyone find out. That’s all. He’s determined to keep this little space he’s carved out for himself, and if that means ignoring his feelings, then so be it.


	3. First Date

“So,” Noct drawls one night, chin resting in his hand and reports sitting half-read and abandoned on the table in front of him, “when are you gonna ask Prompto out?”

Ignis pauses at the stove, hand stilling where he’d been stirring some stew—just for a moment, but Noct sees it all the same. Ignis swiftly resumes cooking, acting like he hadn’t just frozen up. “And what gives you the impression that I’d like to ask Prompto on a date?”

Noct rolls his eyes. “Specs, c’mon. I’m not stupid. You’re always asking if he’s coming over, and you’re super nice to him. Plus, you always make him his favorites. So just ask him out already, ‘cause I’m getting sick of all the vegetables,” he says.

“That’s called being a good friend, Noct,” Ignis replies simply, not looking away from the stove.

“Ugh, Iggy, you’re killing me here.” Noct pushes the papers aside and slumps down, splaying his upper body across the table. “If I have to watch you guys make heart-eyes at each other for the rest of my life, I’m not gonna make it.” He’s not entirely exaggerating, at least on Prompto’s end. Watching the two of them is like reading a scene straight from one of Gladio’s lame romance novels. Noct has to get them to confess, and if that means pestering Ignis until he finally admits his feelings—because Prompto sure as hell wasn’t going to do so anytime soon—then so be it.

“I do _not_ make ‘heart-eyes’ at him,” Ignis insists, annoyance teasing at his tone.

Noct grins, sitting back up. Ignis is definitely cracking now. “Okay, maybe not _heart-eyes_, but you totally like him!”

“My love life is none of your concern,” Ignis says, defensive and embarrassed. It wipes the grin from Noct’s face, and he guiltily pushes himself from his chair.

“Aw, c’mon, Ignis,” he says, moving to stand beside his oldest friend near the stove. “I’m not making fun of you or anything.” Ignis is still pointedly watching the contents of the pot spin around, but looks up when Noct touches his arm gently. Smiling softly, he says, “I’m not, seriously. I’m just saying you should go for it, because you deserve it.”

Ignis holds his gaze for a moment longer, something searching in his eyes, then turns back to the stove with a sigh. Noct just watches him stir for a while, but it doesn’t look like Ignis will say anything more. Noct’s just about to give up and head back to the table when he finally says, softly, “And what makes you think _Prompto_ would be interested?”

Noct smiles again, and he gives Ignis’ arm a squeeze before dropping his hand and leaning back against the counter. “He’s so _obvious_. Like, I was kind of exaggerating about the whole heart-eyes thing, but he practically does it whenever I even _mention_ you,” he says. “You really never noticed?”

Ignis frowns and makes a contemplative noise. “I suppose I haven’t.”

Noct reaches over to pat his arm. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Now you know, right?” Ignis nods and hums and affirmative, but is silent otherwise. Noct, determined not to let this go, adds, “So, are you gonna do something about it?”

Ignis chuckles at his charge’s stubborn persistence, glancing over and giving Noct a fond smile. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and that’s that.

And while Noct is satisfied that Ignis is at least _thinking_ about asking Prompto on a date, days go by with no results, and Noct decides that Ignis isn’t quite thinking fast enough.

So, for his Ignis and Prompto’s own benefits, Noct hatches a plan and puts it into place, like the amazing friend he is. He’s got to wait for the right day and set-up, and he gets it on Wednesday afternoon: Prompto is coming over after work, staying for dinner but not for the night, since he has another shift in the morning and Noct has a meeting to attend in the early afternoon. Prompto always takes the bus home, since he’s loathe to make Ignis do even more work than he has to.

Noct waits until Ignis is busy in the kitchen and Prompto excuses himself from their game for the bathroom, then quickly snatches up his friend's phone. He silences it and makes sure to turn off the alarm Prompto has set to go off so he can leave in time to catch the last bus home, then slips it between the couch cushions. That way it won’t look like he purposely hid it, just that it’d fallen, in case Prompto notices it’s gone. Noct doesn’t think it’s likely that he will—he doesn’t mean it in a rude way, but it’s not like Prompto has a ton of people texting him constantly or anything, so he rarely gets glued to his phone when they’re hanging out.

The rest of the night goes as planned. They have dinner, and Prompto gushes for approximately five whole minutes about how amazing it is, and Noct pretends not to notice how flustered Ignis seems now that he’s learned of Prompto’s feelings for him. They chatter about useless things in between Prompto’s compliments. Then, after they’ve helped Ignis clean up the kitchen, Noct and Prompto sprawl back on the couch for some more gaming before Prompto has to leave, and Ignis sets himself up in the armchair with a can of Ebony and his laptop.

The two of them are halfway through a level when Prompto bolts up, eyes wide. “Wait, what time is it?” he asks, frantically searching around. “Where’s my phone?” Ignis glances up at the sudden outburst, and relays the time after the surprise fades. Prompto practically tumbles off the couch and to his feet. “I gotta go, I’m gonna miss the bus!”

“Dude, relax,” Noct says, pausing their game before Prompto’s idle character can take any damage. “Specs can just drive you home.”

Prompto whips around to face him from where he’d been moving the couch pillows around, hunting for his phone. Noct would’ve laughed at the near panic on his face in other circumstances, but he manages to keep his cool so he won’t give anything away. “No way!” Prompto cries, then freezes as though he’d just realized what he’d said. “Wait— I mean, he already does so much, and it’s so late, and he probably just wants to go home—"

“I don’t mind, Prompto,” Ignis says, and Noct would feel a little guilty for putting his already busy advisor on the spot like this if he wasn’t positive that Ignis truly _didn’t_ mind. He’d go out of his way for Prompto, just like he would for Noct.

Prompto startles and turns to Ignis, as if he’d forgotten the other was even sitting there, but his rambling doesn’t cease. “It’s okay, really! I can walk, I don’t mind! You don’t have to go so far out of your way just for me, I know you wanna go home and stuff, and—"

“Prompto,” Ignis says, firm enough to shut Prompto up but not make it sound as though he’s being reprimanded. An amused smile tugs at his lips as he continues, “I truly don’t mind. Let me finish up here, and we’ll go.” He gestures to the laptop perched on his knees.

Prompto still looks like he’s about to protest, but the look Ignis fixes him with has him saying, “Thanks, Ignis,” instead, cheeks pink.

Noct elbows him in the side. “It’s fine, dude,” he says, and shoots Ignis a discreet, exaggerated wink.

“Yes, it’s no problem,” Ignis echoes, raising an eyebrow at Noct, and then at Prompto when he scampers off to the bathroom once more, looking flustered. As soon as they hear the door click closed, Ignis sighs. “Noct-”

“You just so happen to _conveniently_ have this Friday off, so you better take him somewhere nice, okay?” Noct interrupts with a grin, though his eyes are serious. He reaches to pluck Prompto’s phone from in between the couch cushions.

Ignis remains unamused. “Noct, while I appreciate it, I don’t need—"

“I’ll take my thanks in the form of no vegetables for a week,” Noct says smugly.

“Nice try, Your Highness.”

Noct huffs and crosses his arms, tossing himself back against the couch. “Ugh, so unappreciative,” he grumbles. “But I’m being serious. You better ask him, or—"

The sound of the bathroom door opening again shuts him up, and both of them look as Prompto comes back into the room. He looks decidedly more put together, but he hasn’t entirely lost the tint in his cheeks. “Um, let me just find me phone and I’ll be ready whenever you are!” he tells Ignis.

“Oh, I already found it,” Noct says casually, holding the phone out to Prompto. “It fell between the cushions.”

“Thanks, dude!”

It only takes Ignis a minute or so to finish up on his laptop, and he slides it into its case while Prompto goes to put his shoes on and Noct goes to wait by the door with him. Once he’s collected his things, they say their goodbyes to Noct and Prompto follows Ignis down to the parking garage of the complex.

“Thanks again for offering to drive me home." He pauses for a moment, considering. "Well, you didn’t really offer, huh? Noct kinda just volunteered you,” he’s rambling. “I can totally walk home, I don’t live that far, and it’s a nice night—"

“Prompto,” Ignis says, fond but exasperated. They’re standing near the trunk of his car, and Ignis places both hands on Prompto’s shoulders. “Enough, please. Doing anything for you is _never_ any trouble at all.”

“If you’re sure,” Prompto squeaks, and his face is red again, but he’s smiling despite his apparent nerves. He’s not sure why Prompto is so nervous, but that’s just generally how he is, so Ignis lets it be. He gestures to the passenger side door before walking around to the driver’s side.

“Feel free to pick any station you like,” Ignis tells him, nodding to the radio while slotting the key into the ignition. The car purrs to life as they pull their seatbelts on.

“Whatever you usually listen to is fine,” Prompto says, and watches Ignis fiddle with the dials for a moment before soft jazz music fills the silence of the car. Ignis smiles at him and then backs out of the parking space, pulls out of the garage, and starts towards Prompto’s house.

It’s a bit strange to have someone — and Prompto, of all people — sitting up front with him. Noct usually sits in the back whenever Ignis drives him somewhere, for security’s sake and all. Whenever Ignis picks him up from school and Prompto tags along, Prompto joins him in the back, often to be used as a pillow for their prince seeking a quick cat nap after the day’s activities. Ignis doesn’t drive many other people besides the two of them, so the passenger seat being occupied is a bit of a rare occurrence. He finds he doesn’t mind it, though, especially if it’s Prompto.

The ride is mostly silent, save for the radio. Prompto seems to have given up his anxious rambling for once, instead choosing to look out the window, which might be some cause for concern. Ignis hopes he hadn’t been unintentionally harsh, back in the parking lot - he hadn’t meant for Prompto to stop talking completely, just to stop insisting that he could walk home. Ignis is too busy rehearsing what he’ll say once they get to Prompto's house to engage him though, so he lets him be. A few times, he almost breaks the charged silence between them, almost blurts the question he’s been waiting to ask for what seems like a lifetime, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t want Prompto to feel trapped for the rest of the ride should things go south.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” Prompto speaks up eventually.

Ignis glances at him from the corner of his eye. “It’s no trouble at all. I’ve been trying to give you rides home since you were in high school,” he reminds him.

Prompto lets out a nervous laugh, and under passing streetlights, Ignis can see him flush. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “I hope, um, I hope you don’t think I always turned you down because it’s _you_. I just— well, you were always so busy and stuff, I just didn’t want to add to your workload, y’know? Not when I could save you the trouble.”

“Taking a half hour out of my night to drive a friend home is certainly not ‘work,’” Ignis assures him. “I would never have minded, and never will.”

“Yeah, well,” Prompto says bashfully, but nothing more.

Traffic is light at this hour, so it takes almost no time at all before they’re pulling into Prompto’s empty driveway. Ignis puts the car into park and turns to Prompto, who’s grinning widely. “Thanks so much for the ride, Iggy. Seriously,” he says. “I owe you one!”

“Certainly not,” Ignis replies smoothly. “It’s never any trouble, Prompto, I assure you.”

“No way. I’ll get you back, don’t worry! See ya!” He reaches towards the door handle, and Ignis tightens his grip on the steering wheel. This is his chance. He needs to _say_ something, because every second that passes is one second closer to Prompto getting out of the car and walking up to his house, to one more missed opportunity to toss into a sea of them, but the words feel stuck in his throat.

“Prompto,” he finally manages — blurts it, really, how unbecoming — when Prompto is already halfway out of the car, “before you go, I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Oh!” Prompto says, eyebrows shooting up. He sits back down in his seat and turns to face Ignis. The car door is still open, the gentle glow of the interior lights making his hair seem positively golden. “Sure! What’s up?” He makes an attempt to hide it, but Ignis knows all of his nervous tics by now — the way he reaches down to twist his ever-present wristband, the way he licks his lips, the way his eyes skitter away every few moments.

And Ignis — well, he can’t deny that he’s feeling rather nervous, either. Which might as well be a foreign concept to him, because he _never_ gets nervous. It’s how he was raised; it’s his _job_ to keep a level head no matter the situation. To account for anything and everything and know all possible outcomes.

And this moment, here, this one tiny conversation could have _so_ many outcomes. Ignis can’t lie and say he hasn’t entertained them all, on late nights when sleep eludes him.

Noct could be right about his assessment of Prompto’s feelings, and Prompto might agree to go to dinner. Dinner could go well, and that could lead to more things. A second date. Boyfriends. Even marriage, maybe, but Ignis has always thought that to be getting ahead of things.

The date could go poorly, could turn their friendship awkward with lost possibilities of what could have been, or what was never meant to. Ignis would have to live the rest of the days with the thought that Prompto was right within his grasp, was only one failed date away from being with him.

Or, and perhaps slightly more realistically, Prompto would let him down. Gently, of course, because despite the immense awkwardness Prompto would forever be sweet and understanding. It’s another outcome that puts their friendship in danger. They could grow distant, until Ignis is no longer _Noct’s friend who’s also **my** friend_ and instead _Noct’s advisor who, like, I thought I was friends with until he came onto me._

Plenty of reasons to be nervous, Ignis decides.

But Prompto’s looking at him expectantly, looking more and more anxious as time passes, even though Ignis feels like the whole world is standing still.

So Ignis swallows the lump in his throat and asks, “Do you have any plans this Friday night?”

Prompto blinks at him for a moment, as if he’s caught off guard and that was the last question he’d been expecting. He seems to find his bearings and responds, “Uh, I don’t think so. Why?”

And, Ignis realizes now, that _this_ is the hard part. Stopping Prompto from leaving, asking if he was free — that doesn’t compare to _actually asking Prompto Argentum on a date_. It would be so easy to lie and instead say that Noctis wants him to come over again, but that wouldn’t really be believable, would it? Prompto would know he was lying. If Noct wanted Prompto over, he’d just ask him himself, not go through Ignis. Against all odds, he manages, “ Would you, ah, like to get dinner?” He’s never felt more tongue-tied in his life, and he’s practically mortified. “With me?”

Prompto simply blinks at him again. “Oh, he says, and Ignis’ lips press into a thin line. He’s not sure if that’s a good _oh_ or a bad one. And then Prompto’s eyes get comically wide and his face flushes quite cutely as he processes exactly what Ignis has asked him. “_Oh_. Really?”

Ignis frowns. That’s it, then. Noct was wrong about Prompto’s apparent feelings, and Ignis has just made a big fool of himself. Now Prompto will be uncomfortable around him, and things will never be the same, and— “Apologies,” he says. “If you’d rather not—"

“No!” Prompto cries, too quickly and too loud, and Ignis’ mouth snaps shut. He looks embarrassed as he says, “I didn’t mean it like that. Dinner sounds awesome, I’m just— are you sure you wanna go with _me_?”

It’s Ignis’ turn to blink in surprise, now. He feels as though he’d never thought this moment could happen, not in a million years. As he flounders to regain his composure, he says, “Well, I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

“I mean, I would- that sounds great,” Prompto splutters, cheeks positively on fire. He quickly and quietly adds, “If you’re sure.”

“Prompto, I’ve never been more sure about anything else,” Ignis says, and, okay, maybe he’s laying it on a little thick, because Prompto looks more red than the ripest Lucian tomato he’s ever seen. But he smiles widely and tells him, “I’ll text you the details, then?”

“Okay, great!” Prompto exclaims, smiling so brightly he might as well be the sun. “I’ll, um, see you Friday, then?”

Ignis nods. “I look forward to it.”

“Me, too!” Prompto gushes, and stands up from the car. He leans back down for a quick, “Night, Iggy!” before closing the door and making his way up to his front door. Ignis idles in the driveway until he’s got the door unlocked and waved one last time. Once the door is safely closed behind him, Ignis finally backs out of the driveway.

Ignis finds that he can’t stop smiling to himself the entire way back to his apartment. His cheeks hurt and his stomach is fluttering. He’s already sorting through a mental list of possible restaurants he can take Prompto to. Somewhere nice, but not _too_ nice, since he knows that would only make the blond feel uncomfortable and out of place.

When he makes it back to his own apartment, he’s got a few texts from Noct waiting for him.

**Noctis:** _ so_  
**Noctis:** _ did u ask him?_

Ignis smiles and lets out an amused huff, fingers flying over the keyboard.

**Ignis:** _ If you must know, yes, I did._

**Noct:** _ and???????_

**Ignis:** _ I’ll be taking Friday off after all._

**Noctis:** _ specs!!!!!_  
**Noctis:** _ thats great. Im proud of u_  
**Noctis:** _ i wanna hear all the details of where ur taking him tomorrow_

**Ignis: ** _Of course. Goodnight, Noct._

**Noctis:** _ night specs. sweet dreams lol ;)_

That night, Ignis lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He feels too giddy to sleep. Friday is so close. He’ll have to make the dinner reservations tomorrow; he has the perfect place in mind - he’s eaten there a few times, and he’s sure Prompto will love the menu.

He falls asleep some time later, a smile on his face.

* * *

Friday rolls around quicker than Prompto anticipates. He’s been looking forward to tonight with such excitement that he’s barely been able to sit still or focus on anything else. Which, okay, he usually has a hard time sitting still and focusing, but it feels practically _impossible_ now.

He’s excited, but can’t ignore the nerves bubbling below the surface. Ignis — calm, cool, collected _Ignis_, of all people — asked him to dinner. _Him_. Prompto, the clumsy chatterbox, the most annoying and least attractive person he can think of. Ignis is so far out of his league that they might as well not even be on the same planet.

But, he thinks, an hour and a half before Ignis is supposed to pick him up, Ignis must see something in him because Prompto is getting a _chance_. Things have to go perfect tonight, so Ignis can’t see that he’s making what could be the biggest mistake of his life by taking someone like Prompto out.

So when Prompto opens up his closet door after taking a shower and realizes he has absolutely _no_ clue what to wear, it’s nearly enough to send him into a panic. He dives onto his bed for his phone, pausing the music he’d been playing and smashing his finger on Noct’s contact information. He bounces his leg anxiously as he waits for Noct to answer the video call.

As soon as Noct’s face appears on his screen — lounging on the couch, looks like — Prompto wails, “I don’t know what to wear!”

Noct winces at the volume, but says, “_Relax, dude. You always look good._”

“But Noct,” Prompto whines, “he’s taking me somewhere fancy! I’m, like, the least fancy person ever!”

Noct shifts his position on the couch, lying on his back and holding the phone up above his face. “_I know where he’s taking you, and it’s nice, but not, like, _citadel_-nice_,” he says.

“So…?” Prompto urges, because he doesn’t know what that means. Any level of _nice_ is above him, as far as he’s concerned.

“_So… do you have just a plain button-up?_”

“Um,” Prompto says, and jumps from the bed and back to his closet. He sets his phone down on his dresser, which is tall enough that it comes up to his chest. He props it up against the base of his lamp so that he and Noct can still see each other. He roots through his closet and finds two options: a white button-up, or a navy blue one that he’d worn to one of their high school dances that he can _probably_ still fit into. He holds both of them up in front of him for Noct to see. “I have these?”

“_Hm… I think you look really good in the blue one_,” he decides.

“Yeah?” he says, and hangs the white one back up. He puts the navy one on — it still fits fine, and he’s not entirely sure how he feels about that — and does a little pose for Noct, who nods approvingly.

“_Yeah, definitely that one_,” he says. “_Pants_?”

“Got ‘em!” Prompto reaches back into the closet and pulls out a pair of black dress pants.

Noct nods again. “_And shoes_?”

“They’re in here somewhere, one sec.” It takes Prompto a bit of digging this time, but eventually he finds a pair of shiny black dress shoes tucked away under some sweatshirts he’d neglected to hang up. He quickly puts the whole outfit on and grabs his phone, bringing it over to his full length mirror so both he and Noct can see the finished product.

_“Looks good,”_ Noct says, grinning.

“Hm,” Prompto says, because something about it feels… not quite right. “Is it illegal to roll your sleeves up in fancy places?” he asks after a moment of scrutinization.

Noct laughs. _“No, you can roll them up.”_ Prompto sets his phone down on the bed to do so, and he likes it much better. It feels less restrictive, not to mention it just feels more… _him._ Something’s still missing though, and he tells Noct as such. _“Maybe… you could do something with your hair?”_

Prompto’s faces scrunches up. “Like what?”

_“I dunno, you could spike it or something.”_

“Uh, okay,” Prompto says. He’s still got at least an hour before Ignis is supposed to be here, so he might as well try. If it looks bad, he’ll have enough time to take another shower and wash it out. He sets Noct up on the counter next to the sink, against a box of tissues. Miraculously, there’s a bottle of hair gel in the cabinet, likely left behind by his dad.

Noct is quiet while Prompto gets to work - playing a game on his phone, probably, since Prompto can see him tapping away at the screen whenever he glances over. Prompto plays around with his hair for a good twenty minutes before he decides that it looks reasonably good, with his bangs spiked up. Maybe. “What do you think?” he asks Noct.

_“Uh,”_ Noct says, presumably as he’s exiting his game and pulling the video call back up so he can see Prompto again. Prompto knows the exact moment he does, because Noct snorts loudly and says, _“Dude, it kinda looks like a chocobo butt.”_

“It does not!” Prompto cries, appalled, but now that Noct’s said it, he’s feeling self-conscious. He can’t go on a date with Ignis looking like he’s got a chocobo on his head. “I’m putting it back down.”

_“No, no!”_ Noct says, reigning in his laughter. _“It looks good, though. It’s very… you.”_

“Gee, thanks, Noct,” Prompto says, sarcastic and maybe a touch grouchy, washing the excess gel off his hands.

_“No, Prom, I’m serious,”_ Noct says. _“I’m sorry for laughing, I didn’t mean it in a mean way.”_ Prompto dries his hands and meets Noct’s eyes through the screen. _“Seriously, I like it and I think you should leave it like that. I think Specs’ll like it, too.”_

Prompto warily eyes himself in the mirror. “Are you sure?”

_“Totally,”_ Noct promises. _“What time is he coming to get you?”_

“Um, like a half hour,” Prompto tells him, glancing up at the top of his phone screen for the time. He goes back to inspecting himself in the mirror, turning his head this way and that.

_“Stop second guessing it,”_ Noct says. _“You look good. Have fun, ‘kay?”_

Prompto glances down to his phone, where Noct is grinning at him. “I will!” he says, then bids Noct goodbye and ends the video call.

After grabbing his phone charger from his bedroom and plugging it into one of the outlets above the kitchen counter, Prompto sort of just stands there in the kitchen for a moment. Now that he doesn’t have Noct to distract him, the anxiety he’s been feeling all day worms its way back into the forefront of his mind. He bites his lip, thinking of calling Noct back just to have some company and keep his mind occupied, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t want to bother him with anymore anxious rambling than he’s already done. 

Instead, the rest of the twenty or so minutes he waits for Ignis to show up are spent relentlessly pacing and obsessively checking himself in the big mirror hanging in the entryway every few minutes — adjusting his collar here, fixing his sleeves there, rearranging a few strands of gelled hair in between.

He’s nervous- so, _so_ nervous. It makes him think back to how anxious he was to meet Ignis just a few years ago. He’s gotten better at managing his anxiety, but it’s still something he can’t really help. He thinks some of his nerves are _good_ nerves, this time - he’s excited to go out with Ignis, to spend more time with him, that Ignis _likes_ him, as a friend and is interested in more. The anticipation and admiration fluttering in his gut does little to quell the thoughts that he’s not good enough, that Ignis is too far out of his league for this to work, that Prompto’s going to mess it all up like he always does, but he’s trying not to let them get the better of him.

The doorbell ringing startles him so badly he nearly trips over his own two feet from where he’s been wearing a hole into the floor. He takes a deep, steadying breath, glances in the mirror once more, smoothes the front of his shirt down, swings the door open, and promptly forgets how to breathe.

Ignis is standing there on his stoop in a pale lavender dress shirt, the suit jacket he’s wearing on top unbuttoned to look a touch more casual. His bangs are spiked up in the usual style he’s been trying the past month or so. In his hands is a large bouquet of flowers, different colored roses tied together with a deep red ribbon. He’s smiling so gently at Prompto, looking him up and down. “Good evening, Prompto,” he says, and Prompto blinks, trying to remember how his mouth works. “You look lovely.”

“Wow, um, so do you,” Prompto rambles, cheeks pink.

Ignis lets out a chuckle as he reaches out to brush his fingers through Prompto’s hair, careful not to disturb the gel. “I like what you’ve done with your hair. You should style it like this more often.” If that isn’t a one way ticket to Prompto never leaving his hair down again, he doesn’t know what is.

“Thanks,” he says. “Now we match!”

Ignis laughs again, then presents the roses. “These are for you,” he says.

Prompto only hesitates for a moment before carefully taking the arrangement from Ignis’ hands. “Oh, man, really? You didn’t have to get me flowers,” Prompto says, but can’t deny the way his heart is practically melting in his chest, dripping through his ribcage like ice cream on a hot summer day. Who gave Ignis the right to be so _romantic?_ “But they’re really pretty, thank you!” He gives Ignis a grin, making a mental note to take some pictures of the arrangement later. “Wanna come in for a sec so I can put them in some water?”

Ignis nods and steps through the doorway after Prompto. He’s never been inside Prompto’s house before, and Prompto _really_ hopes things are up to his standards. He’s not really a messy person to begin with, but he’d cleaned up a little just in case. His house is plain and empty, a little sad, maybe. Nothing like Noct’s apartment or what he can only imagine Ignis’ own place to be like.

Ignis stands in the kitchen while Prompto busies himself with finding a vase and filling it with water. He’s glancing around respectively, taking in Prompto’s home. “Your home is very nice,” he says, watching as Prompto removes the ribbon from the stems of the roses and places them into the vase. He ties the ribbon around the neck of the vase, almost as an afterthought.

“Oh, ah, thanks,” Prompto says, reaching to rub the back of his neck self-consciously. Ignis sounds sincere, though, not like he’s making fun Prompto for being less rich than the rest of them, and he’s still got that gentle smile on his face.

“It really is,” Ignis assures, like he can read Prompto’s mind. Prompto wouldn’t really be surprised if he could. Ignis is just that amazing. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah!” Prompto beams at him. He quickly snags his phone off the charger, then realizes, “Oh, wait, let's take a selfie with the flowers first!”

“Alright,” Ignis agrees, moving to stand beside Prompto. He waits patiently as Prompto snaps a ton of photos of the two of them, smile never faltering. After Prompto is satisfied, they make for the door. He grabs his wallet and keys off the little table in the entryway on their way out. Ignis waits for him to lock up, and then Prompto follows him down the steps and towards the car. Ignis even swings around to the passenger side to open the door for Prompto — and that totally _doesn’t_ make him practically swoon.

During the drive, Ignis prattles off more information about the restaurant they’re headed to, about how they’ll have plenty of spicier food for Prompto to choose from. Ignis has been feeding him for years now, so it’s no surprise he knows Prompto’s preferences, but something about it still makes Prompto grin like an idiot.

When they finally pull into the restaurant's parking lot some time later, it’s _packed_, which isn’t surprising for a Friday night. Ignis circles around the lot once, twice, three times, but neither of them see a single spot up for grabs. “We can just park on the street somewhere,” Prompto suggests. It’s a nice night, despite being cloudy, so he wouldn’t mind the walk, and he tells Ignis as such.

“I suppose we’ll have to,” Ignis says, and pulls back onto the road. They have to drive four blocks away before they finally find open space with enough room to fit Ignis’ car. Ignis jiggles the door handle to make sure the car is locked before they start their way back towards the restaurant.

Prompto must step a little too close at one point, before their shoulders bump and their hands brush together. He goes to stutter an apology but Ignis just slots their hands together, giving his a gentle squeeze and that same warm smile he’s had since Prompto opened his front door. Prompto squeezes Ignis’ hand in turn, both of them probably looking like bashful, love-struck teenagers as they continue down the sidewalk.

There’s a rather long line of people waiting outside of the restaurant, but they squeeze through and inside to check in with the hostess in the front. There’s more people waiting inside, sitting on couches near the door and waiting for their tables. Prompto sort of wanders a bit while Ignis talks with her to give his name - not far, just a few feet - to take in the decor. There’s a large sculpture taking up nearly an entire wall, complete with running water cascading down into a little pool. There’s even a few koi fish swimming around, brushing past each other through the pool’s fake plants.

When Prompto turns back around, Ignis is frowning at the hostess and she’s giving him an apologetic look. That can’t be good. He starts making his way back over just as Ignis turns to look for him, frown still plastered on his face. “Everything okay?” Prompto asks, adjusting his wristband.

Ignis shakes his head. “I’m afraid not,” he says, sighing. “It seems our reservation got lost and isn’t in their system.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. He eyes the crowd of people waiting around them. “How long is the wait, then?”

“About two hours,” Ignis tells him, and he’s got that pinched look to his face, the way he gets when he’s stressing about something but trying not to let it show.

Prompto reaches to grab one of his hands, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “Hey, don’t stress about it, okay?” he says. “Maybe there’s something around here we could do while we wait. Or we can go somewhere else, if you want.”

Ignis seems to consider it for a moment, before he decides. “Two hours is a bit long, no? I know another place near here. It’s not as nice, but I’m certain it won’t be as busy.”

“That’s okay! Let’s go there, then.” He tugs at Ignis’ hand and they maneuver themselves out of the restaurant and back into the cool evening air. “Why don’t we walk?”

“Alright,” Ignis agrees easily, this time pulling at Prompto’s hand to lead him in the right direction. They make idle chit-chat and gaze into storefronts while they walk. It’s a few blocks in the opposite direction of the car, but Prompto certainly doesn’t mind. The evening is cool, breeze picking up a bit and rustling their hair. The gel is holding strong, though, so Prompto isn’t too worried.

“It’s just up ahead,” Ignis says, eventually. And then, “Oh, dear.”

All the lights inside the building are off, save for one dim emergency light somewhere near the back. There’s a piece of laminated paper taped up on the glass door that reads, _Sorry for any inconvenience, but we are currently closed for renovations. Please check back in with us next month!_ When Prompto peers inside, all the tables are pushed to one side of the dining room, and the walls are bare. The emergency light reflects dully on protective plastic sheets covering the tables and the flooring.

Ignis heaves out the biggest sigh Prompto thinks he’s ever heard. Not even Noct slacking off is enough to make Ignis sigh that loudly. “My apologies,” he says, “I wasn’t aware they were renovating.”

Prompto bumps his shoulder into Ignis’. He says, “Aw, it’s okay, Iggy. Why don’t we just head back to the car? Maybe we’ll see something or think of somewhere along the way.”

Ignis nods and turns back in the direction they’d come from. “I’d still like to apologize. I’m sure you must be hungry.”

Prompto reaches to grab hold of his hand again, squeezing it gently. “It’s seriously okay, Iggy. It’s not like it’s even your fault. We’ll figure something out!” he tries to reassure.

They walk approximately one block before Prompto feels a cold drop on his nose. He blinks, looks up, and another plops directly onto his forehead. That’s all the warning he gets; before he can even mention anything to Ignis - who’s also looking up, so he must’ve felt a few drops of his own - the sky practically opens up. It goes from dripping to _pouring_ in about five seconds flat.

Prompto splutters and Ignis quickly tugs him under the awning of a nearby building. “What the hell?” Prompto says, and Ignis looks like he agrees with the sentiment. They’re practically soaked, and they were out in the rain for less than a minute. A few blond locks are sticking to Prompto’s forehead, and he reaches up to brush them away absently, before he realizes his carefully crafted hairstyle is _ruined._ “My hair,” he whines, and that gets a huff of laughter from Ignis.

He leans over to help Prompto fix it as best he can. “It’s quite alright,” he says. “I’m sure mine doesn’t look much better.” And he’s right, really. His bangs are drooping, looking like they’ve melted down onto his face. Prompto reaches up to sweep them aside like Ignis had done for him.

“Wow, we look awesome.” Prompto reaches into his pocket and pulls out his (thankfully still dry) phone, opening up the camera app. It’s already on selfie mode, so he hooks an arm around Ignis’ neck and drags him down to the same height, smooshing their cheeks together and grinning brightly. Ignis can’t help but laugh once he sees the state they’re in on the screen, matching Prompto’s expression as Prompto clicks the capture button, rapid-fire.

Ignis straightens up once Prompto’s had his fill and released him, gazing out towards the rain around them. “What else could go wrong?” he wonders, and the mirth from just a few seconds ago has already faded. He’s frowning, and Prompto frowns in turn.

“I mean, aside from our poor hairdos, this is fine,” he says. “I say we just make a run for the car. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna let up anytime soon.” Ignis makes a contemplative hum and takes a step closer towards the edge of the awning, where dry concrete meets wet. Prompto watches as he shrugs his jacket off, and holds it up above his head. A makeshift umbrella, Prompto realizes.

“Ready?” Ignis asks. Prompto siddles up next to him so that the jacket-umbrella covers them both; he’s so close he can feel the warmth radiating from Ignis. He nods.

“Let’s do it.” Together, they step out from the awning and back into the pouring rain, hurrying down the sidewalk in the direction of the car. Ignis’ jacket isn’t really big enough to cover the both of them, so Prompto’s left side is soaked, as is Ignis’ right side. And, well, the jacket’s not waterproof, either, so rain starts dripping through the fabric after only a few minutes, and then they’re both soaked everywhere. Ignis still keeps it over their heads as they run, squinting through the rain to figure out where they’re going.

After a while, it feels like they’ve been running a _lot_ longer than they’d been walking for. “Where did we park?” Prompto asks eventually, and they slow.

“This should be the street,” Ignis says, but it’s raining too hard and just a bit too dark to really see the cars lined along the sides of the street. There’s nowhere for them to take shelter here, so Prompto reaches to hold one side of the jacket - it droops awkwardly due to the height difference, Prompto’s side nearly touching Ignis’ head - while Ignis pats his pockets down for the keys so that they can beep the car and locate it.

Except, instead of producing the keys, Ignis frowns and checks his pockets once more, but remains empty-handed. “I lost the bloody keys,” he says, frustrated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Prompto says quickly, patting Ignis on the arm with his free hand, “maybe you just left ‘em in the car. I remember we parked behind a red car so it should be easy to spot.” Ignis takes a breath and they continue on down the sidewalk, looking for Ignis’ sleek black car and the aforementioned red car.

They end up finding them on the next street over, instead. Ignis tries the door handle, and it’s locked. They’re already soaked, so they abandon the whole jacket-umbrella idea. Ignis leans down to peer through the window of the door, hands cupped around his face, and Prompto presses up against his side to do the same. There, sitting innocently on the vinyl driver’s seat, are the car keys. They stare for a moment, before Prompto straightens up and bursts into laughter.

What a _disaster._ It’s kind of funny, only because Prompto doesn’t want it to be sad — if he thinks too hard on it, it won’t take much for his anxiety to rear its ugly head and swallow him whole. He’ll just convince himself that this is all some horrible omen that things between him and Ignis just aren’t meant to be, and he wants them to be so badly, maybe more than anything he’s ever wanted in his entire life. And if Prompto starts thinking like that, then Ignis might, too. Prompto really doesn’t want all their second chances to be thrown out the window.

So Prompto laughs about it because that’s all he can really do, until he realizes that Ignis is not laughing with him and instead slumped against the car. He’s got his face buried in his arms on the roof of the car, wet jacket balled up beside him. “Uh, Ignis...?” Prompto tries, hesitantly.

Ignis lifts his head, and he looks so upset even through the raindrops coating his glasses that Prompto wants to wrap him up in his arms. “Prompto, I’m terribly sorry the evening didn’t go as planned,” he says, softly, nearly drowned out by the rain. “Everything was supposed to be perfect.”

“Aw, Iggy,” Prompto says. Ignis sounds so _miserable._ Prompto’s never seen him anything other than calm, cool, and collected. It makes his heart ache to see the other so upset. “It’s not your fault.”

“I wanted you to have a good time,” Ignis says, not a whine but probably the closest he could ever get to one. His shoulders are slumped, defeated, as he stares down at the puddles on the road beneath them.

Prompto wipes some rain water from his eyes and leans forward to capture both of Ignis’ hands firmly in his own, but Ignis doesn’t look up. “C’mon, it’s not like you to get down so easily. I think… well, even if things didn’t go like you planned, I still had a good time.”

That gets Ignis to look up sharply, brows furrowed. He sighs again. “Prompto, please, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. You’re soaked, cold, and hungry. Not exactly an ideal time”

“I’m not!” Prompto reassures quickly. “I’m being totally serious. I mean, if I had to be soaked and cold and hungry, at least I’m with you.” Ignis blinks at him and Prompto averts his eyes, slightly embarrassed as he continues, “I’m still kinda shocked that you asked me out. Me, of all people. You’re like, so far out of my league it’s unbelievable. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. So, yeah, it’s kinda cheesy, but no matter what happens, I’m having a good time ‘cause I’m on a date with _you,_ the guy I’ve been crushing on since forever, and who I thought I had no chance with.”

Ignis is quiet for a moment, and there’s only the sounds of the pouring rain around them, and Prompto thinks he might have messed up. He’d been trying to comfort Ignis, but it’s only their first date and he’s come on way too strong, and-

“Prompto,” Ignis says gently. He’s always had a sixth sense for knowing when Prompto’s getting too caught up in his own head. He squeezes Prompto’s hand, prompting him to meet the advisor’s eyes. “You’re right, though you shouldn’t put yourself down like that. I’m sorry I got so caught up on wanting things to be perfect. I wanted them to be because that’s what you deserve.”

Prompto smiles shyly at him. “It’s okay. I mean… if things going perfect means that much to you, I wouldn’t mind a second try…” His tone is hesitant, hopeful. He’s getting ahead of himself, he knows, asking Ignis on a second date when they haven’t even technically finished their first.

But Ignis returns his smile and says, “I’d be more than happy to give it another go,” and Prompto feels relief flush through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes dart over to squint at oncoming headlights over Ignis’ shoulder. It’s the first car they’ve seen, since most people were smart enough not to drive around in such a torrential downpour. The car is doing well above the speed limit, and as it passes by them, hits a water-filled pothole directly. Prompto gasps as dirty water crashes up, drenching the two of them and the side of Ignis’ car. The driver doesn’t even slow down, just continues speeding down the road.

Prompto and Ignis stare at each other with wide eyes for a few moments, shocked, trying to comprehend what’s just happened. Prompto blinks and then they’re both suddenly bursting out in laughter. They stand there, doubled over in the pouring rain for a long time. Prompto doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ignis laugh so hard, though he can barely make out his form through the rain and tears blurring his vision.

“What a mess,” Ignis says, eventually, once he can breath again.

“Right?” Prompto agrees, still giggling in the aftermath. An idea strikes him and he says, “Well, hey, the night’s not over yet, huh?” Ignis raises an eyebrow, grin still plastered on his face. “It’s not as fancy as the places you picked out, but I know a place that has the second best curry I’ve ever had. If you don’t mind the walk, that is?”

That gets a laugh out of Ignis. “We’re already as soaked as we’re going to get. We’ll have to call someone about the car, anyways. Might as well get something to eat somewhere dry while we wait.”

Prompto leads the way down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction of the two no-go restaurants. The rain has let up some, now, but that means it’s gone from downpour to just regular rain, so it’s not much of an improvement. “You said this place has the second best curry you’ve ever had,” Ignis mentions after a few minutes. “What about the best?”

“Well, that would be when you make it, duh,” Prompto replies, like it’s obvious. He swings their intertwined hands between them.

“Oh, please.” Ignis swats at his shoulder playfully, and Prompto ducks away, laughing, though he doesn’t drop Ignis’ hand.

“I’m serious!” he cries. In retaliation, he stomps in the next puddle they pass, splashing water on Ignis’ calf. It has no effect, since Ignis’ shoes are already ruined and his pants are already sticking uncomfortably to his legs. He laughs again, though. “We’ll have to settle for second best now. Hope that’s okay.” Ignis hums his affirmation. “Sorry neither of the places you picked out ended up working. I’m sure it would’ve been nice to eat all that fancy food that you didn’t have to do all the work making, huh? Probably wouldn’t have been as good, though,” he muses.

Ignis shakes his head, amused. “You flatter me. Seems all I have to do is cook you a nice meal and I won’t ever have to take you anywhere again.”

Prompto ignores the way his heart flutters at the word again. “You cook for me all the time, though. You deserve a break, too, y’know.” After a pause, he adds, “I mean, not like I would ever say no to something like that…”

Ignis chuckles. “I’m sure something can be arranged,” he says. “Now, lets go get your second favorite curry.”

The restaurant turns out to be a dingy little takeout place at the corner of the next street over. Prompto assures Ignis multiple times that despite its appearances, the food’s actually really good. The man behind the counter gives them an odd look when they stumble through the door, dripping water and mud everywhere. He looks resigned, knowing he’ll have to mop it all up, and waits impatiently while Prompto points out all the best things on the menu to Ignis.

Ten minutes later, food paid for and in hand, they step back outside so they won’t make more of a mess than they already have. There’s an awning covering the stoop of the building, and they hunker down on the single concrete step to eat. The rain’s coming down harder again, pounding the sidewalk around them, but they’re nice and dry pressed together like this. Ignis is a warm, solid weight against his side, and between that and the curry, Prompto finds warmth returning to him quickly.

Between bites, he pulls out his phone and dries the screen off with a napkin. He nudges Ignis’ shoulder and holds the phone out in front of them to take their last selfie of the night.

The photos come out a little too dark, a little shaky since Prompto’s fingers are still numb from the cold, with weird backlighting from the doors behind them, but both of them are smiling widely, leaning against each other, half-eaten cartons of food in their laps.

It’s the best disaster date Prompto’s ever been on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you so much to [Blind Royal Guardian](https://twitter.com/BlindRoyalGuard) for the art in this chapter, it came out so great!


	4. First Kiss

Prompto rocks back onto the balls of his feet, fiddling with the camera in his hands and glancing left and right for any sign of Ignis. The Crownsguard stationed down the hall looks over at him once more, but pays him no mind otherwise. He’s pretty sure they all know who he is, being Noct’s best friend at all, and most of them have seen him hanging around the Citadel every so often.

He’s been waiting for Ignis outside his office for nearly twenty minutes now, but that’s only because he was at least ten minutes early. Ignis had invited him for a “surprise date” after his meeting, and told Prompto to bring his camera and meet him at his office and they’d go from there. Ignis had said the meeting was over at one, but it’s nearing quarter-after now, so Prompto figures it’s running long. Which is fine, really, that’s not Ignis’s fault; Prompto’s just _excited._

They’ve been official for a few weeks now, only able to go on two more dates since their first — both of which had gone so perfect it almost felt like a dream — due to the time constraints of work for both of them. This will be their fourth date, and Prompto can only hope it’ll be just as good as the previous ones.

Prompto perks up when he hears the clicking of dress shoes down the hall, trying not to watch the corner eagerly and failing miserably. When Ignis rounds it, carrying a small stack of notebooks and folders and papers, Prompto waves quickly, and sees a smile bloom across Ignis’ face.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, the meeting ran a bit long,” Ignis explains once he’s a bit closer. “Let me put these away, and we’ll go.”

“That’s okay! I didn’t wait long,” Prompto says, and reaches to take Ignis’ keys to unlock and hold open the office door for him. “Where are we going?”

“Thank you,” Ignis says, skirting past Prompto and through the door. He places the stack down on his desk and smirks at Prompto. “Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, darling.”

Prompto still melts whenever Ignis uses pet names. He doesn’t avoid them completely, but it’s not like he peppers them into every sentence, either. Whenever he calls Prompto _darling, dear, love,_ it makes Prompto’s heart flutter a little and his cheeks warm. And Ignis seems to know exactly what he’s doing to Prompto.

“I guess not, huh?” Prompto replies once he manages to find his voice again.

Ignis shuffles the papers around for a moment, organizing them in some way, before stepping back towards where Prompto is waiting at the door and offering a hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Prompto says, wiggling his eyebrows and slotting his hand with Ignis’. They exit the office and Prompto waits while Ignis locks it again. “Do I at least get any hints?” Ignis begins leading him down the hall, in the opposite direction he’d come from.

“Hm,” Ignis says, as though he’s actually considering it. “I’m afraid not.”

“Aw, man, but I’m so excited!”

Ignis chuckles. “You’ll see soon enough, don’t worry. And I think you’ll rather enjoy it.”

Prompto can’t help but try to figure out where they’re going, even if he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, but the Citadel’s just so _huge,_ so it seems that Ignis’ secret is safe for now. They walk for only a few minutes before they finally arrive in an area Prompto recognizes. They’re by the gardens, he’s pretty sure. When he glances through the next window they pass, he sees them, chiseled paths with sprawling grass lawns and flowers as far as they eye can see. He turns to Ignis, who’s grinning now that his jig is up.

The Royal Gardens are kind of a big deal. They’re extremely private, not open to the public, and a sort of sacred place for King Regis, so Prompto’s been told. Prompto’s visited only once before, back in high school, when Noct had taken him on his version of an official tour. He remembers wanted to take so many pictures but not wanting to seem rude or get in trouble.

They pass another Crownsguard as Ignis leads him out into the gardens. It’s a beautiful day, sun high in the sky, shining warmly down on them, but not unbearably so. A light breeze ruffles all the petals and leaves around them, carrying the sweet floral scents through the air. Flowers of all sizes and colors surround them, bright and cheery in the afternoon’s sun.

“Oh, wow,” Prompto says, because it’s just as gorgeous as he remembers. Ignis gives his hand a squeeze.

“Let’s take a walk,” he says. “You can take as many photos as you’d like.”

Prompto turns to gape at him. “Really? Isn’t this place, like, super private?”

Ignis chuckles. “Yes, but I’ve gotten you special permission.”

Prompto’s practically bouncing on his feet. “Iggy, you’re literally the best!”

“It’s nothing, darling,” Ignis replies, squeezing Prompto’s hand once more before letting it go so the blond can use his camera. “Let’s go?”

They don’t so much as walk together as Ignis follows along after Prompto, watching him snap shot after shot of whatever catches his eye. He takes plenty of selfies of the two of them, and even manages to convince Ignis to pose by himself for a few shots. Prompto still stands by his opinion that Ignis could absolutely be a model if he ever decided to.

Prompto’s camera slowly fills with bushels of poppies and sylleblossoms and gladioli and irises and flowers he doesn’t even know the names for. They stop by the memorial for the late queen, and Prompto feels sort of disrespectful taking pictures of it even though Ignis tells him it would be alright to. He settles for taking a few at Ignis’ insistence that it would make King Regis happy to receive a few copies for the days when he couldn’t make it down to the gardens, be it due to his duties or the weather or his declining health.

Prompto straightens up from where he’d been taking a few close up shots of some lilies, water still beaded on the petals from this morning’s watering. Ignis is standing off to the side, watching him, and Prompto suddenly realizes just how caught up he’s gotten in taking pictures. 

“Um,” he says, lowering his camera, “not that this isn’t amazing and all, but do you really wanna just sit there and watch me take pictures all afternoon? You must be bored.”

“Of course not,” Ignis tells him. “I could never get bored with you, especially not with your photography.”

That makes Prompto’s heart flutter a bit, because nobody’s _ever_ been interested in his photos before Noct, Gladio, and Ignis came along. The most he'd ever received from either of his parents was a bored, “That’s nice, honey,” whenever he’d tried to show them a picture he was proud of, so eventually he stopped trying. The rest of the walls in the house remained blank, while the walls in Prompto’s room got more and more crowded. Now, between Noct, Gladio, and Ignis, the three of them had requested more prints than Prompto can count. 

“However,” Ignis continues, “there _is_ something else I had planned…” He smiles widely at the surprise on Prompto’s face.

“There’s more?” Prompto asks. Things have already been going so perfectly… what else could Ignis have planned for them?

“Of course there is, darling. Would you like to take some more pictures now, or go see the rest of the surprise and come back later?”

Prompto drops his camera, letting it dangle from the strap around his neck, and grins eagerly st Ignis. “Let’s go!”

Ignis chuckles and leads Prompto by the hand through the pathways winding through the gardens. They end up in a shady little area under a large, drooping willow tree, sounded by blooming bushes of flowers of all kinds and colors. There's a red checkered blanket spread out beside the trunk of tree, complete with a dainty little picnic basket.

He turns to look at Ignis, who's watching him with a carefully masked hopeful expression, and Prompto beams at him. "Iggy! This is amazing!” He tugs his boyfriend closer and squeezes him in a quick hug. He releases Ignis and brings up his camera once more, snapping a few shots of the arrangement in front of them. “You did all this for me?”

“Of course I did,” Ignis says as they settle themselves down on the blanket. “I’m glad you like it.” He swats Prompto’s hands away good-naturedly when he tries to help unpack the picnic basket. Out come containers of sandwiches, fruit, some kind of pasta salad, and what Prompto thinks (and hopes) is a few slices of chocolate cake, along with a sealed pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. The silverware and napkins are tucked away in a zipped up pocket underneath the lid of the basket.

“Woah, Iggy, everything looks so good,” Prompto gushes, busying himself with pouring them both some lemonade while Ignis pulls the lids off some of the containers.

“Thank you, darling,” Ignis says, smiling a bit bashfully. Prompto loves the way he gets whenever he’s showered in compliments (which, with Prompto, is practically all the time). “I hope it’s all to your taste.”

“It always is. This time is no different,” Prompto says, eagerly accepting a sandwich that Ignis passes over to him. “Guaranteed.” He takes a bite and practically melts at the taste. It’s a simple sandwich, but Ignis has blended all the flavors _perfectly,_ as usual. Prompto’s not sure how he does it. He swallows and says, “Told you!”

Ignis gives an amused huff and shakes his head at Prompto’s antics, smile still stretching his lips as he reaches for his own sandwich. “I’m glad,” he says.

Throughout their lunch date, they pick all the containers clean - aside from the cake, which they’re saving for later since they’re so completely stuffed. They chat about anything and everything, conversation flowing easily between them. Prompto scrolls through the pictures he’d taken earlier as they let their stomachs settle enough for the cake, pressed up against Ignis’ side so his boyfriend can see, too. Ignis has a comment for every photo, and Prompto devours the affection and praise like he’s still starving.

“Would you like some cake now?” Ignis asks after a while.

“Oh, yeah!” Prompto says, sitting up straighter and setting his camera aside. “I almost forgot.”

There’s two seperate tupperware containers of cake, one for Ignis and one for Prompto. Ignis hands him a clean fork and Prompto eagerly tucks into the cake. He’s not huge on sweets, but he’d never turn down Ignis’ baking. He practically moans at the first bite, rich and creamy chocolate assaulting his taste buds. It’s _heavenly._ “Ignis, this is amazing,” he says, not even caring that his mouth’s full. Prompto’s torn between scarfing the cake down because it’s just that good, or pacing himself and making the flavor last as long as possible.

Ignis just laughs over his own cake, watching with an amused twinkle in his eyes as Prompto eats. It’s not long before Prompto’s scraping up the leftover crumbs and icing with his fork and setting the empty container back beside the picnic basket. He leans back on his hands, basking in the afterglow of the cake. “Wow,” he says, grinning over at Ignis, who’s finishing up his own slice.

Ignis eyes dart down towards Prompto’s lips, and he breaks into a smile. “You’ve got some icing,” he says, already reaching out.

“Oh,” Prompto says. He leans closer to meet Ignis’ hand halfway. Ignis cups his cheek gently, and his thumb brushes over Prompto’s skin, just under the corner of his mouth. Time seems to slow, and they just sit there for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, blue-violet meeting emerald green. Ignis’ hand is warm and soft against Prompto’s cheek, and he presses into it, craving the contact.

Something seems to click in those few seconds. Ignis is gently guiding Prompto’s face closer to his own, and Prompto eagerly goes along with it, eyes slipping shut as their lips meet. He can taste the chocolate on their lips, sweet and nearly overwhelming. Prompto’s been kissed before, but never like _this._ It’s warm and soft and _perfect,_ and so wholly _Ignis_ that his heart nearly bursts from his chest.

When they finally part, they don’t go far, foreheads resting against each other, panting breaths mingling between them. Ignis’ hand cups his cheek, so tenderly that Prompto kind of wants to cry, and his thumb brushes across the freckles dusting Prompto’s face. He watches Prompto with half-lidded eyes and a content smile, gaze softer than Prompto’s ever seen.

“Wow,” Prompto says again, once he manages to find his voice. He feels dazed and breathless, cheeks warm and rosy. “Did I actually have something, or was that just an excuse to kiss me? ‘Cause you really don’t need one. An excuse. To kiss me,” he rambles.

Ignis chuckles, his breath ghosting across Prompto’s face. “You _did_ have some icing,” he says, lips upturning, “but that’s good to know for future reference.”

He leans in and capture’s Prompto’s lips once more.


	5. First "I Love You"

It’s been almost a week now, since Insomnia burned the ground. Since everything they’d ever known was destroyed, their entire lives pulled out from underneath them like a tablecloth from under dishes in a cheap party trick.

Things have been… quiet. Tense, somber, and the stress so palpable that Prompto’s nearly suffocating. His anxiety’s wrapped tight around his throat, constricting and constricting, and he feels like he’s going to burst.

It almost seems selfish to feel that way, because everything he would ever need was still right beside him. Noct and Ignis and Gladio are still alive, still letting him stand beside them. All he’d left back in Insomnia was an empty house and an emptier heart. His parents had been in Altissia when it all came crashing down — but that didn’t matter much, because neither of them had tried to get ahold of him to see if he was alright. After hours and _hours_ of calling and assuming the worst, Prompto had finally gotten through to them, and all he’d gotten out of it was a five minute conversation riddled with empty words.

So he feels selfish, mourning their fallen city when the rest of them have lost so much more than he had. Prompto wishes there was some way to _fix_ it, but he can’t go back in time and erase what the Empire’s done. His attempts at cheering the others up fall flat. They’re distant at best, snappy at worst. Even Ignis is more withdrawn, and Prompto stamps down the hurt it causes and tries to be understanding, to help where he can.

They’re all curled up together in the tent for the night, but Prompto’s not quite asleep yet. Everyone else is, as far as he can tell, which is good. None of them had been sleeping well recently, and as usual, Prompto’s brain is buzzing too loudly for him to relax and drift off. His anxiety’s been twisting him up in knots, keeping him up late into the night with endless possibilities of things that could go wrong now.

Prompto’s pressed up alongside Ignis, arm slung over his chest and fingers twisted loosely into his nightshirt. He can feel Ignis’ heartbeat just under his palm, can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. It’s calming, grounding, and he tries to focus on that fact that Ignis is right here with him, alive and well.

He’s so lost in his own head that it takes a moment for him to register that Ignis is moving. Prompto doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t move or make any noise, feigning sleep as if opening his eyes will reset any progress he’s made towards _actually_ sleeping. Ignis is probably just shifting positions, he reasons.

But then Ignis’ warm hand is over his own, gently and carefully untangling Prompto’s fingers from his shirt and tucking his arm back against Prompto’s own chest. He scoots away from Prompto the slightest bit and Prompto can’t help the way his heart aches at the action. Ignis sits up slowly, sleeping bag rustling faintly, barely audible over Gladio’s snoring. Prompto listens as Ignis unzips the tent and sneaks out, zipping the flap back up behind him.

He probably just needs the bathroom, Prompto figures, trying to push away the familiar abandoned feeling he hasn’t felt since the last time his parents left. He curls up a little tighter, sighing. If Prompto hadn’t been able to sleep before, he definitely won’t now, or at least not until Ignis finds his way back into the tent again. He tries to ignore the ache settling in his chest and how cold and empty the space beside him feels.

Prompto lays there for a long time, listening to the insects chirping and daemons howling, to Noct’s incoherent mumbling and Gladio’s snores. Enough time goes by that Ignis could have made at least three bathroom trips, and yet he’s still not back. Prompto tries not to let his anxiety get the better of him, tries to ignore the thought of Ignis on his way back from doing his business and getting ambushed by daemons. He would’ve heard if something happened, surely.

Maybe he’d better go check. Just in case.

Prompto slips from his sleeping back and makes his way outside as quietly as Ignis had. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Ignis sitting on a blanket beside the last embers of their fire, flickering in the breeze. Ignis lifts his head in acknowledgement as Prompto steps closer. “Everything alright?” he asks.

Prompto rings his hands together. “You just didn’t come back to bed,” he explains. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. _Are_ you okay?”

Ignis makes an attempt at a smile, barely visible in the dark. “I’m fine, darling. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

“I couldn’t sleep anyways,” Prompto says. He moves to sit beside Ignis, then pauses. “Is this, um- is this okay?” He doesn’t want to intrude if Ignis wants some time alone. The four of them spend practically every waking moment together.

“Of course,” Ignis says, and pulls him the rest of the way down, tucking him against his side. The stone of the haven is cold, even through the fabric of Prompto’s pants and the blanket underneath them, but Ignis radiates warmth beside him.

For a while the two of them just sit, nothing but the sounds of the night around them. Then, Prompto murmurs, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Ignis sighs heavily but doesn’t say anything more. The silence stretches on long enough that Prompto’s considering apologizing, but the words are stuck in his throat. Ignis finally says, “I’m just thinking about all we’ve lost, and what’s to come.”

Prompto hums softly in agreement. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.” He reaches to hold Ignis’ hand, playing with his fingers to give his own restless hands something to do. “It’s kinda scary, huh?”

The Empire could catch up to them any day. A hunt could go wrong and four could become three, or even less. They’re so young and already collapsing from the weight on their shoulders. Prompto can’t even imagine what it’s like for Noct.

“Indeed,” Ignis says, and gives Prompto’s hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant lately.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Prompto insists. “We’re all trying to process everything. It’s not your fault.” And it’s not. Ignis didn’t lead the Empire into Insomnia and help them burn it to the ground. But it helps quiet the anxiety to hear Ignis say it, shoving back the voice telling Prompto that Ignis is getting tired of him.

“I know, but I should be there for you as you are for me, and for all of us.” He leans down and kisses Prompto, tender and apologetic. Ignis meets his eyes when they pull apart. “I just hope you know that I love you very much, Prompto,” he murmurs against Prompto’s lips.

Prompto feels his heart stutter against his ribcage. “I love you, too, Iggy,” he whispers, kissing him again. With it, Prompto feels the last of his anxiety retreat. It’s still there, tucked away in the back of his mind, but he feels confident that Ignis will chase it away again should it try to return.

They sit and share soft kisses for a long time, just basking in each other’s company, in the fact that they’re both alive and right here together.

Eventually they part. The embers of the fire are practically dead, just a faint orange glow in the dark. “I know things suck right now,” Prompto says after a while, leaning his head against Ignis’ shoulder, “but I’m with you every step of the way, yeah? We’re all in this together.”

“Of course,” Ignis says. He tugs Prompto impossibly closer, practically in his lap. “You’ll always have me here, Prompto. Things will be alright.” And for the first time since Insomnia’s fallen, Prompto believes it.


	6. First Anniversary

Prompto stirs to a warm, humid breeze ruffling his hair and a tickling sensation on his arm. He cracks his eyes open, glancing blearily over towards where the curtains are billowing by the room’s window, weaving through the sunlight streaming in. On his other side, Ignis is lounging beside him, propped up on an elbow and resting his head in one hand. The other trails lazily over Prompto’s bare arm, fingers tracing the smattering of freckles there.

“Good morning,” Ignis murmurs, a fond smile working his way onto his face. He’s not wearing his glasses yet, and his hair is still askew and his clothes are still sleep rumpled, yet he’s still nothing short of perfect. Prompto meets half-lidded eyes, gazing down at him with all the love and affection he could ever ask for. “Happy anniversary, love.”

Prompto can’t help the smile that breaks out onto his face. Ignis chuckles and leans down for a kiss, neither of them caring much about their morning breath. They part after a few moments and giggles as Ignis bumps their noses together affectionately. “Happy anniversary, Iggy. I love you.”

“And I, you,” Ignis tells him, reclining back against the pillows and letting Prompto curl into his side with a content sigh.

The four of them had taken an unspoken break for their anniversary, and have been stopped in Lestallum since yesterday evening. It’s nice to finally relax a little, and they have no concrete plans for the rest of the day, so they can do whatever they want at their leisure. Noct and Gladio even splurged for a second hotel room so that Ignis and Prompto could have some extra time alone without being bothered. So, they use this time to their advantage, simply cuddling and kissing and relaxing in each other's company for as long as they want.

Eventually, their quiet lay-in is interrupted by Ignis’ stomach giving a rather loud grumble. They both pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Breakfast time, huh?” Prompto manages between giggles, never mind the fact that it’s already nearly noon.

"I suppose it is," Ignis says, stealing one last kiss as the two of them start the slow process of getting out of bed.

"Hm, what about that little brunch place?" Prompto suggests, rooting around in his bag for clean clothes. "The one Iris took us to last time we were here. With the really good crepes?"

"That sounds lovely," Ignis agrees.

An hour later they’re sitting across from one another at a little wooden table just outside the cafe, eating their crepes — apple cinnamon for Ignis and strawberry and cream for Prompto — under the shade of an umbrella. Ignis listens with a fond smile on his face as Prompto launches into an animated story, and Prompto listens with rapt attention when Ignis tells his own.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time they return to the Leville, hand in hand, and decide to poke in and bother the other half of their group. Noct and Gladio are still holed up in their room, sprawled on their beds, Gladio with a book and Noct with his phone.

The four of them sit and chat for a while before Ignis excuses himself back to their room for a few minutes. When he returns, he gives Gladio and Noct a pointed look over Prompto’s head and says, “Looks like we’re out of Ebony. Prompto, would you mind going to pick some up?”

“Oh, sure!” Prompto says immediately, hopping up from where he’s seated on one of the beds and stuffing his phone in his pocket.

Gladio stands as well, stretching in a way that’s definitely not trying to playfully show off his shirtless chest and arms. “I’ll go, too. Wanna get off my ass for a bit. Plus,” he says, stooping to root around for a shirt at their unimpressed looks, “might as well get all the shopping done, right?”

“We _are_ running low on a number of supplies,” Ignis says thoughtfully.

Gladio slaps Prompto on the back, a touch too rough. “Well then, blondie and I’ll go get everything.”

“S-sure,” Prompto splutters, reaching to rub at his back.

Ignis gives them a list and some money and shoos them off to the markets. Prompto’s not upset over being on grocery duty, per say, but he _would_ much rather be hanging out with Iggy on their anniversary. But he reasons that the sooner they get the shopping done, the sooner he can get back to Ignis. He doesn’t understand why Noct and Gladio couldn’t have just gone, but it’s something that needs to be done, so he won’t really complain.

“Pretty dangerous of Iggy to give us all this money, huh?” Gladio jokes, pulling Prompto from his thoughts.

Prompto laughs. “He specifically told me not to let you get any Cup Noodles,” he says.

“Damn,” Gladio says as they walk, in a tone that suggests he’s absolutely going to get Cup Noodles regardless.

“It’s okay, I have it all planned out,” Prompto tells him, like he’s revealing some kind of master plan. “We’ll get some, and when he complains, I can just say that I wanted some too. And he’s, like, my boyfriend and he loves me so he won’t be mad. I’ll take one for the team, y’know?”

Gladio barks out a laugh. “You got it all figured out.” As they near the markets, he pulls the list Ignis had given them out of his back pocket and unfolds it, eyes scanning over the advisor’s neat penmanship.

They work their way through the stalls, stopping where necessary. Prompto’s done enough shopping with Ignis that he’s learned a lot about ingredients, so he feels more confident than Gladio in buying certain things. Maybe it’s for the best that they didn’t just send Gladio and Noct out here to do their shopping.

They’ve just finished up getting the requested spices when Gladio nudges his shoulder and says, “So how’s your anniversary goin’, lovebird?” His tone is teasing yet genuine. “You give him that gift yet?”

“Ah, no, not yet,” Prompto admits, rubbing the back of his neck a little self-consciously. “We just kind of slept in this morning, and then went for brunch, and then took a little walk, so I didn’t really get a chance. But I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go get dinner tonight so he doesn’t have to cook, maybe? So I can give it to him then, I guess…”

“Then how come you sound so bummed about it?” Gladio asks. They’ve reached the next stall and start collecting whatever vegetables they see on the list.

“I just… I dunno, I feel like it’s not enough?” He pauses to inspect a tomato, and puts it back when he finds a weird spot on the side. “Like, just a journal and watch and some pictures… not very exciting or romantic.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and huffs next to him, reaching for the garlic. “How many times do I gotta tell ya? He’ll like it. Trust me, if both me and Noct say he’ll like it, then he’ll like it. We’ve known the guy our whole lives.”

They pay for their vegetables and move on. “Still… what if he gets me something really nice? And then I just have… that,” Prompto says lamely.

Gladio slings an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. “Look,” he says. “You could give Iggy a case of Ebony and he’d be happy. It’s not about the gifts with him. You know that.”

And, yeah, Prompto does know that, because he’s the same way. Ignis could get him absolutely nothing and he’d still be over the moon because at the end of the day, Ignis is still his _boyfriend,_ had still chosen him over anyone else. But Ignis is the _perfect_ gift-giver, as Prompto has learned through numerous birthdays spent between the three of them, so he’s worried Ignis might get him something super amazing and he’ll have something lame to give him in return.

He feels like his gifts are necessity gifts, not thoughtful ones. Ignis likes to have a watch in addition to using his phone for the time, and his had broken beyond repair during their last hunt. He’s also constantly writing in his journal, and it’s starting to near its end. He’s got a bit of a thing for journals, though, so Prompto had made sure to get him a nice one, with a leather cover and everything.

The photos are more thoughtful, but he feels like they’re so small and simple compared to everything else. He’d put together a sort of memory-scrapbook, filled with photos and notes and the like, all from the past year. He was worried it was kind of a dumb idea, but both Noct and Gladio had assured him multiple times that it was actually really sweet and that Ignis would really like something like that, so he’d been putting effort into in for the past few months, sneaking away to work on it whenever he found time.

And yet, Prompto can’t help but feel anxious. What if his gifts don’t compare to whatever Ignis gets for him? What if he’d put all this time and effort into the scrapbook, and Ignis ends up not liking it? It’s irrational to think that, he knows, but he just can’t help it.

Resigned, he tells Gladio, “I know.”

“So then don’t worry about it,” Gladio says, grinning. “You put a lotta work into making that book and it came out really nice. Specs’ll love it.” Prompto flushes at the praise and laughs nervously, and Gladio chuckles and goes in for an affectionate noogie.

They make quick work of the rest of the stalls Ignis had listed, making sure to get extra Ebony in an attempt to appease him for the Cup Noodles they’re buying. When they’ve finished, they take a quick break in the shade with some cool drinks. Prompto fiddles with his camera for a few minutes, not paying much attention to Gladio typing away on his phone.

“There’s one more place I wanna check out while we’re here,” Gladio says, and steers them in the opposite direction from the hotel.

“What place?” Prompto asks curiously, trailing beside the larger man. They toss out their empty drinks as they pass by a garbage can.

“Just some little book shop Iris mentioned. Just opened up, apparently.” Gladio glances around while they walk. “Should be around here somewhere.”

“Need some new books already?” Prompto asks, following Gladio’s example and looking around for any place resembling a bookstore.

“Just one or two,” he says, then points. “That’s it, I think.”

The shop is small and cluttered, shelves packed with books. An older lady greets them warmly as they come in, the cat on her lap watching them curiously.

“I’ll try to be quick,” Gladio promises. Prompto’s not entirely sure why he had to come along for this, but Gladio asks for his opinion a few times so it’s not like he’s sitting there doing nothing. He pokes around at some books as well, but he’s never been much of a reader, so nothing really catches his eye.

The cat from before ends up winding through the shelves to find them, butting against Prompto’s calves until he bends down to give her some attention. He makes sure to take plenty of pictures to show Ignis when they eventually make it back to the Leville. As she rolls onto her back for a tummy rub while he cooes at her, he decides that this is definitely worth waiting for Gladio to finally settle on a book or two.

* * *

“Table’s all set up,” Noct says as he pushes open the swinging door leading into the Leville’s kitchen. Ignis expresses his thanks while Noct leans up against the counter beside him, scrunching his nose up at the vegetables he’s sauteing. “You’re feeding him _that?_ On your _anniversary?_ Cruel, Specs.”

Ignis rolls his eyes playfully. “Not everyone has an aversion to vegetables like you do,” he teases.

“Whatever,” Noct says, nonchalant. “You think Gladio’ll be able to keep him out long enough for you to finish?”

Ignis nods. “I have faith in him. He texted me not long ago and said they’ve finished shopping, but he’ll keep Prompto distracted for a bit longer. I’m almost done, anyways.”

Noct helps out where he can while Ignis cooks the rest of dinner. He makes sure to set aside separate portions for Noct and Gladio so that they won’t have to worry about what they’ll eat. He supposes it’s the least he can do, since they’ve both helped him with his anniversary dinner scheme.

The rest of the cooking goes smoothly, sine Ignis had taken the time to prep things the previous day. He’s just plating up the last of the food when his phone buzzes.

**Gladio:** _On our way back now. Everything good?_

**Ignis:** _Good to go. Thank you._

He and Noct carry the last few dishes up the roof, then Noct jerks a thumb towards the roof’s door and says, “I’ll go wait for them. I’ll text you when I’m bringing Prom up, ‘kay?”

Ignis nods. “Thank you,” he says. Noct waves him off and disappears.

Meanwhile, Ignis fusses with the table, making sure everything is just-so. The bouquet of roses in the center, the dishes arranged neatly, the food still covered. He’s not nervous, he tells himself as he smoothes out a wrinkle in the table cloth. He and Prompto have been on plenty of dates over the past year, and this is just one more (albeit a slightly more special one) to add to the list. He’s made all of Prompto’s favorites, so he’ll like it, he knows, just as he knows he’ll like the gifts he’s tucked away in the Armiger.

His favorite lens had been busted some time ago during a rather rough hunt, but since he has a different one, Prompto had refused to spend their money on replacing it. Ignis had finally been able to find the right one a few weeks ago.

He _knows_ Prompto will be happy. Still, he just feels like he could have done… more.

His phone vibrates twice in quick succession. There’s a text from Noct, followed by one from Gladio.

**Noctis:** _bringing him up_

**Gladio:** _Have fun lover boy ;)_

Ignis snorts and sends a quick, witty reply to Gladio (as well as thanking him for being a decent distraction), but doesn’t bother responding to Noct. As he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket, the door to the roof opens, revealing a blindfolded Prompto and a grinning Noctis. “Okay,” Noct says, steadying Prompto and removing his guiding hands from his friend’s arms. “Just hang out here for a sec.” 

“Uh, okay?” Prompto says, arms slightly out in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t take the blindfold off,” Noct reminds him, giving Ignis a little wave and thumbs up as he opens the door again. When he closes behind him, leaving Prompto and Ignis alone on the roof, Prompto jumps a little.

“Noct?” he says. Ignis can’t resist a little teasing, and remains silent as Prompto stands there, trying to get his bearings. “Noct?” he asks again. He doesn’t sound panicked, just confused, so Ignis doesn’t see any harm in letting it play out.

“Iggy?” Prompto tries, raising his arms a bit more and taking a tentative step forward. He looks like a chocochick taking its first steps.

Ignis finally lets out a laugh, unable to hold it him. Prompto startles and stumbles. “Iggy!” he says, playfully scolding, cheeks flushing underneath where the fabric of the bandana rests.

“I’m sorry, love, you just looked so cute,” Ignis says, making his way towards where Prompto’s waiting. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Wow, rude. Can I take the blindfold off now?” Prompto asks, leaning into Ignis’ touch when he wraps an arm around freckled shoulders.

“In a moment,” Ignis tells him, nudging him forward and guiding him to table, chair already pulled out and waiting. He settles Prompto and pushes the chair in, then takes his seat across from him. Prompto’s fidgeting a bit, clearly excited and antsy to see what Ignis has planned. Once again, Ignis can’t resist teasing him and letting him suffer just the slightest bit longer, so he slowly takes all the covers off the plated food. Prompto looks as though he’s ready to burst with Ignis sets the last cover aside, and Ignis laughs and says, “You may take it off now.”

The blindfold is practically ripped off in Prompto’s excitement. He blinks a little at the light, then gasps at the elaborate set-up in front of him. “Aw, Iggy, this is so amazing! You didn’t have to do all this!”

“Nonsense,” Ignis says with a smile. “It _is_ our anniversary, after all. I hope you like it, darling.”

“I love it!” Prompto gushes, grinning widely. “It all looks really good, thank you!”

“Thank you,” Ignis says, then gestures to the food. “Please, help yourself.”

Before they dig in, Ignis waits patiently while Prompto insists on taking a few photos. It’s practically a date ritual at this point, so Ignis doesn’t bat an eye. Not that he ever did, really — Prompto has always loved taking photos, as well as capturing their memories, and Ignis finds it incredibly endearing.

While they eat, Prompto regales him of his afternoon’s adventures. He complains that Gladio takes forever to pick out a single book, let alone two — but admits that it’s nice to see the big guy being so passionate in his hobbies. He shows Ignis all the pictures he’d taken, including the incredibly long stream of cat photos, and Ignis looks at each and every one with a fond smile.

Once they’ve finished, and eaten fluffy chiffon cake for desert to top it all off, they lean back in their chairs, full and content. “That was _amazing,_ Iggy,” Prompto says. “As always.”

“Oh, please,” Ignis replies, waving a hand in Prompto’s direction, but he’s smiling. “Though I’m glad you enjoyed it. And,” he reaches his hand out to summon the carefully wrapped gift from the Armiger, “I have something else for you as well.”

Prompto sits up quickly, eyes wide. “You didn’t have to get me a gift, too, oh my Gods,” he says, but then summons his own gift box from the Armiger in a flash of blue.

“Of course I did,” Ignis says, and reaches forward to hand it over. “Do you want to open yours first?”

“Sure!” Prompto says, and he sounds a touch nervous. He laughs a little at the chocobo themed wrapping paper as he begins to carefully peel it away. Ignis waits impatiently as he opens it. Once he gets a look inside, he gasps loudly. “Iggy, no way!”

“It’s the right one, then?” Ignis asks, a bit relieved. Thanks to Prompto, he knows plenty about cameras, but he hadn’t been able to shake the worry that he’d gotten the wrong one.

“Yeah!” Prompto says excitedly, grin lighting up his face. “Iggy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!”

Ignis chuckles at his enthusiasm. “You’re very welcome, love. Why don’t you try it out?”

“Do you wanna open your stuff first?” Prompto asks instead. He looks nervous again, setting his new lens aside and picking up the package.

“I’d love to,” Ignis says as he takes the box, wrapped messily in lavender paper with little spectacles dotting it. “Is everything alright?” he can’t help but ask.

“Um, yeah,” Prompto says with a nervous laugh. “It’s just… they’re not as great as,” he gestures to the entire table and his new lens, “all this. So I feel kinda bad.”

“Prompto, I’ll love them no matter what,” Ignis assures, setting aside the boxes and reaches across the table to take Prompto’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise." Prompto smiles nervously and squeezes Ignis’ hand in return before letting go so he could unwrap the gift. A smile breaks across his face when he peers inside. “Prompto, what are you talking about? These are perfect,” he says, pulling the watch out first. It’s simple but still stylish, just the way he likes. It has a black leather band and a silver rim around the watchface, and it looks very similar to the old one he’d unfortunately broken.

“You like it?” Prompto asks. Ignis nods, wrapping it around his wrist and holding it out to inspect. “It looks good on you!” Prompto remarks. “Just like your old one!”

“Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you very much,” Ignis says, reaching in for the journal. The brown leather covers are smooth and the pages inside are crisp and blank when he flips through them. He meets Prompto’s hopeful gaze and smiles warmly. “I don’t know why you were so nervous. These are perfect gifts. Thank you, darling, I can’t wait to put them to use.”

“You’re welcome, I’m really glad you like them,” Prompto says, blushing and shooting Ignis a wobbly smile. He still looks and sounds nervous, but Ignis can tell he’s working up to say what he needs to say, so he lets him be, content to wait until Prompto’s ready. Eventually, he says, “There’s, ah, one more thing I wanted to give you.”

“Oh?” Ignis says, watching as Prompto pulls another box from the Armiger. This one’s slightly larger, but wrapped the same. Ignis can feel the anxiety coming off Prompto in waves. He knows Prompto’s anxieties are sometimes irrational — though that never invalidates them — but he’s gotten so much better at handling them, a fact Ignis is immensely proud of him for. What could Prompto be giving him that has him so nervous? Ignis reaches for the box, curious.

“It’s kind of cheesy,” Prompto rambles as Ignis starts to unwrap it. “But, I dunno, I just thought- well, just open it.” He abruptly shuts himself up, fidgeting in his seat nervously as he watches Ignis open the box.

When Ignis lifts out the scrapbook, his heart absolutely melts. On the cover, there’s a picture of the two of them in Galdin Quay, sitting on the beach with the light of the setting sun bathing them in an orange glow. They’re both smiling widely at the camera, heads tilted together, genuine happiness sparkling in their eyes. On the corner is a curly gold font that says, _One Year._

“Oh, Prompto,” Ignis says, raising his eyes from the cover to look at his boyfriend. “Why are you so nervous? This is one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.”

“Really?” Prompto asks, perking up. Ignis can practically see some of the anxiety melt off of him. “You like it?”

“I _love_ it,” Ignis corrects. He beckons Prompto over. “Come sit with me so we can look through it together?”

Prompto giggles nervously. “Okay!” Instead of bringing his chair over, he just plops himself on Ignis’ lap, settling the book on his own thighs so they can both see it.

The first few pages are riddled with photos from their first date. There’s them, standing in Prompto’s kitchen, all dressed up with the bouquet of roses between them, just like the arrangement on the table in front of them now. Prompto’s gotten better at gelling his hair up since that first night he’d done it.

Beside that, there’s the rest of the selfies from the night, when things had gotten chaotic. They’re soaked, bangs plastered to their foreheads and cheeks squished together. Ignis’ glasses are covered in tiny droplets, obscuring his eyes. They’re both laughing. Then there’s the photo of them outside the curry shop, muddy and grinning despite it all, food held precariously in their laps.

Ignis reaches out to run his fingers over the plastic liner over the photos. It seems like such a long time ago. And yet in one single year, so many things have happened to them.

“That was the craziest first date I’ve ever been on,” Prompto says suddenly, breaking Ignis from his thoughts. “But I still think it was one of the best.”

“It certainly was interesting,” Ignis replies, chuckling. “I’m glad you agreed to a second after that disaster.”

“Are you kidding?” Prompto twists a little in his lap to face him. “Of course I did!”

“Of course you did,” Ignis repeats, flipping the page. “And I’m certainly very glad for that.”

The next pages are filled with selfies from their second date, which was basically a re-do of their first. They’d gone to a fancy restaurant and _actually_ got to eat there. Besides Prompto floundering over prices, it had been perfect. There’s photos from their third date as well, a quiet movie night at Ignis’ apartment.

Next are photos from their fourth date, in the Citadel gardens where they’d shared their first kiss. Ignis recounts it fondly as he looks through the multitude of photos - some of just the gardens, some selfies of him and Prompto together, some of just him posing to amuse Prompto, some of the picnic he’d set up. 

The rest of the book is filled with photos from every single one of their dates. Ignis is a little amazed at how many there are, how many memories they’ve made together. There’s little heartfelt notes from Prompto scattered throughout the pages. There’s ticket stubs and brochures and scraps of wrapping paper from each of their birthdays. There’s so much and it’s all so perfect. As they turn from page to page, they’ll stop and talk about something particular if it sparks their memories, recounting details and moments.

When they reach the last pages, they’re blank. Ignis looks up to Prompto for an explanation. “Those are for today,” he says. “I figured we could do them together when we get the pictures printed.”

“That sounds perfect. This is all so amazing, darling. I love it so much,” Ignis tells him sincerely, tilting his head up for a kiss. Prompto indulges him, and when they part he adds, “But not as much as I love you, I’m afraid.”

“Iggy!” Prompto exclaims with a laugh, slapping Ignis’ chest playfully. “Stop being so romantic, I’ll die!”

Ignis laughs, stealing another kiss before gently nudging from his lap. “Go get your camera so we can start on the last page,” he says.

Ignis waits while Prompto outfits his camera with his brand new lens, then clambers back into his lap. Prompto wraps his arm around Ignis’ shoulders and in turn, Ignis holds onto his waist so he doesn’t go tumbling off.

Prompto raises the camera up with his free hand, aiming it towards them. They meet each other’s eyes, both breaking out into giggles and wide smiles, and press their lips together once more as the shutter clicks above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> One more quick shout of to [Blind Royal Guardian](https://twitter.com/BlindRoyalGuard) for the [amazing art](https://twitter.com/BlindRoyalGuard/status/1198307083592056838) and [Kika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988) for all her editing help! Please go show them both some love <3
> 
> And then my usual mess of links:  
[personal tumblr](https://k-ovic.tumblr.com) | [writing tumblr](https://choco-bee.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/choco_bee_) | [requests](https://choco-bee.tumblr.com/requests)


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